


Vows

by TeaBagginsFromtheOak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Breaking of Vows, Confessional Sex, Dean has his sexuality figured out, Dean is bisexual, Faith Crisis Castiel, Heresy, Human Castiel, Hunter Dean Winchester, Just Total Blasphemy, M/M, One-Shot, Or Is he?, Priest AU, Priest Castiel (Supernatural), Priest Kink, Sexuality Crisis Castiel, Slow Burn, Smite Me Jack, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28492461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaBagginsFromtheOak/pseuds/TeaBagginsFromtheOak
Summary: "You'll see him every once in a while. He confesses, sometimes prays, and then he's off." Michael explained. Castiel looked around at the large nave of the church. A few people were praying on their own next to their bibles and others were lighting candles."Who is he?" Castiel knew the man in question wouldn't be amongst the clergy, but he couldn't help but dart his eyes between all the faces to see if he might recognize the man that the Bishop was describing."He's a man, Castiel. And he comes here the same reason anyone else comes here."
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 24
Kudos: 95





	Vows

**Author's Note:**

> So I started out drawing this then I got impatient and decided to write it. So here it is. Maybe I will finish drawing it some day and I'll put it in here.  
> Imagine this is set in Season 4 when Castiel arrives for the sake of the backstory with the boys.  
> Also listen I am not in the catholic faith so everything I know is from watching Call the Midwife and The Young Pope. Both for completely separate reasons. Also Sebastian Roche is in Young Pope, so a lot of his character will probably be a mix of his supernatural character as well as his character in The Young Pope (who also happens to be named Michael. I know right)  
> PS when I refer to Father Freely, I am talking about Balthazar and that he used the Alias I.P. Freely not Sam's Father Freely from Nightmare in season 1. Jesus christ this fucking show.

Castiel set his briefcase on the steps as he reached up to knock on the massive wooden doors. His reassignment had been sudden, but he hadn’t been taken aback by the news. The wood felt worn on his knuckles. He could hear the echo of the empty church as he breathed into his hands to try and farm up his fingers. The snow had just started to come down as the bus had brought him into town. He was told that the walk would be short one, but he had gotten lost once in the unfamiliar scenery. His toes were stiff in his shoes and he could feel his knees rub unwelcomingly against his rigid slacks. His hat would no doubt be covered in a fine lining of snow as he stood waiting for someone to open up. Finally, he heard the sound of footsteps in the chamber and the door creaked open. The man looked at him with a brief scowl before he opened the door completely and let Castiel in.

“Castiel?” The voice was aged, Castiel previously thought him to be short, but as he entered, he realized the man was just hunched over in age.

“Yes, sir. I apologize for my tardiness; I lost my way.” The man only grumbled before he shut the door once again. The narthex wasn’t much warmer than outside, but at least it wasn’t snowing in here. The church was much larger than he had originally thought after he had been told he would be relocating to South Dakota. It had a large arcade on either side of them as he watched the older man walk past him down the aisle towards the transept. Castiel grabbed his briefcase and quickly pulled his hat off, stuffing it under his arm as he hurriedly walked after the old man. There were only a handful of people sitting in the pews on either side of them. No one looked up as they walked past.

“I’m Deacon Neil.” The man turned briefly to give Castiel a glance back before leading him back towards the chancel. “We were expecting you earlier, but the lord works in mysterious ways.” Castiel gave a small grin at that and he finally noticed they were walking towards a man standing beside the lectern. He was looking back at the chancel but turned around as Castiel and Neil approached.

“Deacon Neil, good evening. I swore I had heard the door open.” The Deacon gave a nod to the man before he made his way else where in the church. Castiel held his hand out, a little nervous and concerned that his hand wouldn’t operate correctly from having been out in the cold so long. The man took his hand, if he noticed the way the cold leather of his gloves made it hard to actually shake Castiel’s hand he didn’t make any mention to it.

“Father Castiel Novak.” Castiel was able to grab his hat before it fell to the ground, but it did dust the ground with a fine white dust before it melted into the stone of the steps. “Your Excellency.”

“Welcome to St. Liza, Father Novak. I am Bishop Michael Shurley.” Castiel let his hand fall to his side as the Bishop turned his head to indicate for Castiel to follow. “We’re excited to finally have you here.” Castiel tried not to think that the comment was directed at his late arrival.

“I’m glad to finally be here, Your Excellency.” Castiel was quick to follow as the Bishop led him further to the right of the transept, a door tucked away in the corner seemingly their destination.

“Don’t let the cold scare you off, it’s lovely around here.” The Bishop opened the door and let Castiel walk in before him. The door led into a narrow hallway where there was another door at the end of the hall. “The last priest used this area as storage, but you can do with it as you see fit.” Castiel merely nodded as they walked front to back in the hallway. There was a pew every few feet, seemingly kept there on the chance there were more people than usual. From the accumulation of dust on the wood, he would guess that they hadn’t been needed in some time. They approached the second door, and the Bishop went through, allowing Castiel to follow. There was a desk to one side and a few lamps around the room. It was an office of sorts with a bookshelf behind the desk and on the wall beside it. There was a single window that attempted to let in the dim light of the snowstorm around them. Castiel watched as the flurries came down much heavier than when he had arrived. The windowsill was quickly accumulating a veil of white as the storm raged on just outside. It was slightly warmer back here and Castiel was eager to feel the tips of his fingers again.

“Just beyond that door is the sleeping quarters as well as a small kitchen and other utilities. The last priest tried to update some of the appliances, but the church was only able to spare some money for a microwave and a new house phone.” Castiel went ahead and opened the door towards his private quarters. The Bishop stood near the desk as Castiel investigated the small kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable, and then if you’re feeling up to it, I can show you around and introduce you to some of the other staff and maybe a few regulars.” Castiel could feel warmth start to seep into his clothes, the kitchen much warmer than the rest of the church.

“Thank you, Your Excellency, I’ll surely try.” Castiel turned back to see the Bishop making his way out into the hallway they had entered into. Castiel grabbed his briefcase and made his way to the other door on the opposite end of the kitchen.

xXx

Castiel had fallen into an easy rhythm after moving into St. Liza’s. He had the Deacon Neil to help with his daily duties and Bishop Shurley was eager to have him watch sermon. Castiel would be lying if he didn’t find listening to the sermon and the clergy the more enjoyable portion of his day. After a month or so Bishop Shurley had been almost preening to have Castiel hold a few of his own sermons. He would have to get used to it anyways if he were to remain on as the priest here. Bishop Shurley was gone more often than not now as he had to contend with the rest of the parishes in his district. Castiel was still learning the ins and out of the small town, and the even smaller clergy. He noticed that he was only half received by the clergy, the other half wary to approach him and Bishop Shurley proclaiming that the number of confessions had dropped since Father Novak arrived. Castiel didn’t let it show as he spent most of his time doing a combination of cleaning up and studying his numerous volumes. He had decided that he would try and create a warmer atmosphere within the church. He could tell that a lot of the artefacts were worse for wear, even the chained bible in between the columns was nearly unreadable on its stand.

Castiel often caught himself playing with the key under his robe, unused to the weight of it around his neck. He was more than accustomed to the weight of the collar at this point but given that this church was large enough for a very homely clergy he was to be entrusted with two of the three sets of keys. Deacon Neil had the other one which he was never seen without. The older Deacon was stiff to him for a few weeks before Castiel had convinced him that he was intending to improve the reputation of this church with him in it. Not soil it. While the Deacon didn’t welcome him with open arms after that, he had been more willing to engage in cordial conversation than he was before.

Castiel had done his best to learn the names of several parishioners who attended every day’s mass. He could name a few people off the top of his head and knew who to pick out of the crowd, putting faces to the names. He preferred to hand out the communion as opposed to having Deacon Neil do it. He wanted to know the comings and goings of this church in a way he wasn’t allowed to before. This would be his first official assignment since seminary school. He had been bounced around to a few places, Bishops moving him around with seemingly no direction.

 _The Lord has big plans for you Father Novak. Keep him in your graces, Father Novak. Are we not all travelers in this realm, Father?_ He had heard everything, and he would be lying if he didn’t confess that the constant relocations were a burden on his mind even now as he wandered the columns of the church. Castiel thought over the lines for his mass tomorrow. Bishop Shurley had trusted him to this one on his own and Castiel was human enough to admit when he was scared. He held his hands tightly behind him as he approached his office. There were a few people still sitting in the pews from the day’s sermon and he could Deacon Neil wandering around the aisle, speaking softly with people as he passed. Castiel waited at the end of the aisle for Deacon Neil to approach him.

“Father Novak.” Neil nodded his head once in acknowledgement. Castiel gave a small nod in return.

“Deacon Neil, I was thinking of doing a community event to try and gather more parishioners.” Deacon Neil gave him a wizened look but didn’t outright shoot his idea down.

“I think that would be a good idea, Father Novak.” Deacon Neil walked past Castiel as he started to make his way down the other side of the pew. “Might I suggest a potluck. It gets awfully cold this time of year and there’s always people in need of a warm meal.” Deacon Neil gave a small glance over his shoulder and Castiel watched him as he continued on. Castiel gave a nod, more to himself than in response to the Deacon, and he walked to his office. The minute he saw the several extra pews in the hallway leading to his office, he knew he wanted to put them out in the nave with the rest of them. He had hoped that if people saw the introduction of the other seats, they might start to fill them. Castiel let his hand drift onto the wood of the pew as he passed by. His fingers catching on the poppyhead. He had made sure to keep the dust off of them while they were back here. The row of windows along the hallway to his right had a habit of dredging up much more dust than was typical in the rest of the church.

It had snowed some more over the course of the month, the sun shone brilliantly on the freshly fallen snow. It was almost to the window at this rate. Castiel took a moment to look out the window and close his eyes to the feeling of the winter sun reflecting off the snow drift. After a deep breath he walked into his office and sat at his desk with a soft sigh.

xXx

“Amen.” The chorus of voices followed his sermon filled the otherwise quiet room. A few people moved to gather their belongs, a few kids eagerly rushed up to head out the door on the stormy evening, Castiel recognized that mass wasn’t something children were overly fond of. He knew well himself even as a child he would rather be out scraping his knees on grass than sitting shoulder to shoulder with your parents while a man spoke for hours at you. “I would like to just make a quick announcement if you all would be so kind as to offer me the time.” There seemed to be a hush that fell on the crowd as he spoke. Eyes turned to him from their position on bibles and children alike. “As the season continues to bless us with storms, I am going use the church as the central location for a coat drive. I will be accepting any used, but in good condition or new coats. I plan on distributing these coats out to the homeless on Christmas and offer anyone to also bring food for the community. If one or the other isn’t an option do not feel pressured to do more than you can offer.

“These times are when we must cling to one another and remember our generosity. Please see Deacon Neil for any more information. He has flyers to pass out to anyone who is interested.” There was a sort of rumble throughout the crowd. Movement drove his eyes up and he saw for the first time someone sitting in the back of the gallery. Their face was shroud in darkness, but Castiel could just make out a worn leather jacket. Castiel watched for a moment to see if they would move, but they only seemed to push themselves farther into the shadow of the gallery. “Take care of one another and have a blessed evening.” People started to gather up their belongings and children once more. Castiel had noticed that there were a few more singletons than the last time he gave sermon, and he took a deep breath at the thought of more parishioners joining their clergy. Castiel stepped out from behind the lectern and stepped down to help one of the older ladies in the front row.

“Oh, Father don’t you worry yourself about me.” Castiel offered her his hand, and despite her protests, she still grasped firmly with her cold hand. He gave a small smile at her. He could only think of bringing more heaters into the church as his toes were often numb after his sermons. Standing on the stone would be even worse.

“I worry about your walker should you put too much of your strength into it. I’ll have to add ‘walkers’ in fine print for the coat drive.” She gave a small chuckle as she situated herself onto her seat. Castiel reached over and handed over her covered bible. The outside was embroidered with her name and a few crudely done flowers. _My great-niece wanted to add some lovely flowers to them. Aren’t they precious?_

“Oh yes, Father, about that. I have several of my son’s jackets collecting dust in bins in my closet.” Castiel knew very little of her son, the most he knew was of the war that took him from her and the name she always prayed for during the quiet moments in the church. “I’ll see if my grandsons would be willing to bring them to you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hanson. I’m sure there will be people more than happy to have them for the season.” Mrs. Hanson held her bag and bible close to her chest as she let him push her down the aisle. A few people got out of their way and Castiel nodded to them with a closed mouth smile.

“Is your daughter picking you up today?” Mrs. Hanson leaned heavily on one side of the chair as she listened to him.

“Yes, she’s bringing my grandson and her husband to go Christmas shopping for the rest of the family.” As they passed Deacon Neil, he gave them a nod and he even gave Mrs. Hanson a genuine smile as she passed. Castiel couldn’t see her face to see her response, but she turned a little towards the Deacon. “Father, could you get me one of those flyers. I want to know what to bring for the potluck.” Castiel moved her to the side as she reached her hand out and he was quick to take long strides to ask the Deacon for a flier before returning to Mrs. Hanson’s side. She latched onto the flier and placed it with the bookmark in her bible. “You’ve got a warmth about you, Father Novak. You have the makings of a saint.” Castiel gave a small smile. His heart broke a little at the thought that his common decency was likened to saint hood in this woman’s eyes. The lack of kindness she must experience had him in turmoil.

“I have a long way to go before sainthood, Mrs. Hanson. Don’t let me go getting ahead of myself.” Castiel got into the narthex just as the door was opening to reveal a middle-aged woman and her teenage son. The wind kicked up and pulled the door from them. Castiel shivered a bit as he looked out into the storm.

“Thank you, Father Novak.” Mrs. Hanson’s daughter hurried forward and wrapped her mother in a large coat before taking the handles of the walker from him. Castiel merely gave a smile and said his goodbyes. He stood at the doorway and offered a handshake or a smile to the exiting clergy. A tap on his shoulder pulled his attention from the last few members.

“Your Excellency, I didn’t know you had joined us today.” Castiel straightened up as he turned to Bishop Shurley.

“I wouldn’t expect you to, I made a surprise visit to see how you were doing. I should have known you would have settled in just fine.” Michael led them down the aisle, Castiel still offering goodbyes to people as they gathered up their stuff and headed out to brave the storm. A few people lingered as always, praying, or gathering around the shelves and shelves of candles along the side aisle and into the chapel. “I think the coat drive is a very good idea. This is the worst winter I think I’ve seen since moving here.” Castiel dared a glance outside one of the large windows and he could barely make out the street light a few hundred feet from the church.

“Thank you, Your Excellency. I wanted to do something to bring the community together for the season.” Castiel reached the lectern again, his eyes drifting up to the gallery. The figure from before was gone. Castiel couldn’t help the feeling of disappointment at having missed their departure. He tried to look around the Bishop to get a passing glance to see if he could pick out the leather coat he saw before. The Bishop saw his eyes flicker up to the gallery. Michael turned to look as well, the church nearly empty now, though Castiel could hear a few people in the chapel murmuring prayers.

“Looking for something, Father?” Castiel looked once again at the Bishop. He held his hands behind his back and gave a small shake of his head.

“I thought I saw someone in the gallery earlier.” Castiel walked to the lectern, his worn and old bible sitting open to the last passage he had been reading from. Michael gave another look back at the gallery before turning back to Castiel.

“You probably did. He has a reputation around here.” Castiel couldn’t help the way his eyes darted back to the Bishop at the comment. "You'll see him every once in a while. He confesses, sometimes prays, and then he's off." Michael explained. Castiel looked around at the large nave of the church. A few people were praying on their own next to their bibles and others were lighting candles.

"Who is he?" Castiel knew the man in question wouldn't be amongst the clergy, but he couldn't help but dart his eyes between all the faces to see if he might recognize the man that the Bishop was describing.

"He's a man, Castiel. And he comes here the same reason anyone else comes here." Michael waved him off to finish his various duties, leaving Castiel to stare up at the gallery as the soft voices of the parishioners carried on around them and the faint smell of dust and smoke filled his lungs. “I have to return to Father Freely, if you need any assistance with the coat drive, please send notice, I’m sure the other Father’s in the area would love to join.” Castiel closed up his bible and watched as the Bishop headed towards the back door of the church, throwing on is coat and hat before disappearing into the storm. Castiel held his bible close to his chest as he stared up at the gallery. His interest in the man only piquing. A man who came to confession, but never joined in with the clergy. 

Castiel had worked in several churches in his life following seminary school. He had seen people from all walks of life come through his life, each just passing through on their own journey that he was lucky enough to witness, even if for a moment of time. He knew that people flocked to churches for a multitude of reasons, even before he was in seminary school, he knew that. Castiel had worked all over the country at this point. He hadn’t had the honor of working outside of the US, but frankly he was much more interested in finding a permanent place after all the relocating he had done. Castiel didn’t linger too long on the man in the gallery as he thought about the upcoming coat drive he had to arrange.

xXx

It wouldn’t be until after the new year that Castiel would have his first encounter with the mysterious man. His back ached from having spent so long in the age worn booth. Castiel couldn’t help but notice how nearly everything was falling apart around his ears. He had dealt with his fair share of old churches, but nothing like where he was currently stationed. He wondered why the previous priest had been removed with very little ceremony and as he looked around the church that had just enough polishing to hide the fact that the beams looked like they could cave at any moment and knew whatever the reason, it had something to do with the near decay this church was experiencing. Castiel leant forward to rub at the back of his neck, contemplating leaving the booth for the night when he heard the sound of footsteps approach the booth. Castiel moved back in his bench and straightened himself in his seat. He could hear the other individual situating themselves on the other side of the screen. Castiel darted his eyes over as he opened his mouth to speak, but he was beat to break the silence by the man beside him.

“Eh, sorry I’m late, Padre.” The man had a gruff voice and he sounded slightly winded. Castiel was intrigued more so by his sudden appearance than the lack of formality.

“Sacrament isn’t something you can be late for.” He kept his voice even as to not betray his surprise. The man gave a small chuckle.

“Well, then I guess I have one less thing to confess.” Castiel could hear the rueful smile in the man’s words. There wasn’t a lot of light in the booth, just the single filament lightbulb above him which might as well have been a candle flame, but no matter how many times he changed it, it never worked to its full capacity. Castiel had given up wasting money on buying new bulbs after the third one.

“Start, whenever you’ve collected your thoughts.” Castiel couldn’t help the curiosity that wanted to look over at the screen and look at the man next to him. The man in question cleared his through and there was a shuffle of clothing as he readjusted himself on the wooden bench.

“Sorry, padre, I’m not really well versed in this. I wasn’t really raised learning this part of religion.” Castiel filed away that tidbit of information as he listened to the other man.

“I am more than happy to assist you, if you’d like.” Castiel could almost hear the hesitancy in the other man’s movements. Cas closed his eyes as he leant his head back to listen more fully to the man next to him.

“I’m not one for rules, so do you mind if I do it my way?” Castiel gave a small quirk of his mouth. He couldn’t help but be interested in this strange man who came to listen to the sermons of this church and would sit through sacrament but knew nothing of the formalities of such items. Rather than be offended, Castiel gave a small nod of his head, opening his eyes only a crack while doing so before closing them once again. “Thanks, Padre.” The man took a deep breath as he collected his thoughts.

“You may confess in any form you’d like with me, so long as you trade me your name.” Castiel opened his eyes and turned his head to look at the dark figure behind the screen.

“I think I can arrange that.” The man chuckled and Castiel could hear the man’s faint smile again. “Name’s Dean Winchester.” Castiel turned his head back to look at the top of the booth door.

“Very well, Mr. Winchester. You may proceed.” It sounded like Dean was shifting a little on his side of the booth. Castiel waited while Dean took a moment to either gather up courage or find his words.

“Father forgive me, for I have sinned.” Castiel was silent as he listened to Dean continue, as if through a semi-clenched jaw. “I think at least.” More sounds of movement before a soft thump alerted Castiel that Dean had leant his head back on the wall along with Castiel.

“People think sin is a purely black and white detail. That all sins are equal and thus shall be punished equally. I find very rarely do people sin with the intent to do harm to their soul.” Castiel lifted his head off the back of the booth and spared a fleeting glance at the lattice work between them. He thought he saw a flash of something metal before Dean shifted slightly and the sight was gone.

“I pulled my brother out of college to work on the family business.” Castiel let the other man talk, seemingly having this be his only outlet. “He was going to law school.” Castiel put his head down a little as he listened on. “See, our dad…. passed a few years back and I…. needed help running the business.” Castiel let the niggling suspicion at the back of his mind fade into the farthest reaches of his mind as he listened to Dean’s confession. “And our business nearly killed him.” Castiel could hear the choke in Dean’s voice as he continued. “Did I do the wrong thing bringing my brother back for the sake of the business?” Castiel clasped his hands together between his knees as he listened to the way Dean forced out his words.

“Have you spoken with your brother about this?” Castiel sometimes wondered if his life would have been different if he went around helping people without the reputation of the priesthood. He could do this for people every day if he were a psychiatrist or a counsellor. Part of him had always been interested in helping people, it was just what avenue he would use to get there. He heard Dean take a deep breath before answering.

“No.” Castiel waited a moment to see if Dean would expand anymore on that, but after a short silence he figured that was all he would get.

“ _Father, give us courage to change what must be altered, serenity to accept what cannot be helped, and the insight to know the one from the other._ ” Castiel started. He dared to look across the way to try and catch a glimpse of the man beside him.

“What verse is that?” Dean had a hint of something in his voice as he asked.

“It’s not from the bible.”

“Oh.”

“Your brother is his own man, Dean. He can make choices just as easily as you can. If he didn’t want to continue with your family business, he could very well leave with or without your permission.” Castiel thought about his own little family and felt a small pang of something in his gut that he hadn’t felt in years, not since announcing he would go into seminary school. Maybe if he had taken the more common avenue his parents would have thought differently of him. Better. He brushed the thought aside as he focused his attention back on the man next to him. “Decisions are a communicable practice. It requires action from two parties for any conclusion to be met. Nothings stopping him from eventually getting back into law school.” Dean was so quiet as he listened to Castiel that the Father thought for a second that he might have left. There was a pregnant pause which made the hair on the back of Castiel’s neck stand on end.

“Thank you, Padre.” Castiel leant back, having moved forward to create a more earnest approach to this man. Whatever emotions Dean had grappled with seemed to quiet on his side of the screen.

“Do you have any other sins to confess?” Castiel wrestled with the idea that Dean’s first confession was less about sin and more about internal qualms plaguing the man. There was the sound of fabric against fabric, but the door to the other side of the confessional stayed closed.

“Yeah, I have drank, stole, lied, dishonored my parents, said the Lord’s name in vain, given into temptations of the flesh, laid with man as I lay with women – sometimes at the same time – worn polyblend material, I have coveted thy neighbor, and I have made deals with demons, killed monsters, I have worked on the sabbath, really there isn’t anything I haven’t done.” Dean let out a humorless laugh. It was Castiel’s turn to let the silence linger. He had heard a lot in his time as a priest, but it was the way Dean said the things he said. Something in his tone had him shaken to the core. Castiel turned fully and tried desperately to see the face of the man on the other side of the screen. He was met with only a profile image of the Winchester. He could see the faint hue of his green eyes, but otherwise he couldn’t see any intricate details of Dean’s face. He had never wanted to gaze upon the face of another man than he did in this moment. If Dean felt the weight of his stare, he didn’t acknowledge it. Before Castiel could even think of something to retort with, Dean was speaking once more,

“What is my penance, Padre?” Castiel moved his face back from the screen. He crossed himself and sent up a small prayer to the Holy Father before he responded.

“Speak with your brother.” Dean let out a strange noise, like he was punched in the stomach in the middle of laughing. “I will see about absolving you of all your other sins in my own time.” Castiel felt the weight of his keys around his neck and had nearly reached out to grab at the rosary that wasn’t there. Dean finally looked over at him and Castiel met his eyes for a moment before Dean stood and made his way out of the booth. Castiel resisted the urge to sneak a look out the booth. What kind of image was this man who had seen and committed so much sin in his life? Castiel waited until he heard the sound of the grand doors closing before he got up and exited the confessional. He walked to his study in a bit of a haze. He had several events he needed to plan, but he didn’t know if he was going to be able to focus on any of it after his encounter with Dean Winchester.

Later that night, Castiel lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, his hands clutching tight to the rosary at his chest. His eyes staring unfocused on the raised ceiling of his bed chambers. He had prayers on the tip of his tongue, the Latin falling from his lips like the snow on the windowsill.

xXx

Months passed without another encounter with Dean Winchester. The haunting confession a distant memory as the summer months were almost in full gear, which usually meant many more events to contend with. He was more than happy to have his hands busy with his ever-growing clergy, by the time Easter arrived he had people in every pew of the nave and busting at the seams in the gallery. It had been so many more than he had anticipated and while he hadn’t had the same size following mass after Easter, he did put good to the extra pews that had been previously stored in the hallway to his office. His eyes swept out as he took in the many faces of his parishioners. He tried to ignore the way his eyes couldn’t pick out Dean Winchester from the large gathering. His prayers usually consisted of all of his parishioners in need, but he found he was praying a certain man’s name far more often than he did anyone else. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about the man. After his confession, his mind began to race at the thought of what kind of business that the Winchester was involved in and thus got his brother re-involved in. He had dealt with members of gangs, he had briefly spent time in New York City, but there was some kind of conviction in Dean’s words that resonated with him that wasn’t the same he had heard from the words of current and former gang members. His brain was like a drain with the two words ‘monsters’ and ‘demons’ circling around, forever circling, but never following down into the drain.

He was a Catholic, he knew about demons. He knew about exorcisms. He had hoped to go to the Vatican sometime in his life to research more into it. But having heard it in that way from someone who didn’t consider themselves overtly religious in the structural sense but rattled off several sins that took understanding of the Sacrament not found outside of people within the clergy or the See had his bones nearly stiff with a knowledge he wasn't privy to.

Castiel was quick to finish his sermon and walked to the parish chest, signaling to Deacon Neil to follow him. They both wordlessly closed the chest and used the three keys needed to lock it before stashing each of their keys away. Castiel was quickly pulled away by a new couple that had joined recently. He had seen them at a few Masses, but they typically left before he was able to welcome them. Today they managed to pull him aside near the side chapel. They talked for a long time, they had recently been engaged and been looking for a venue and a priest to perform the ceremony. Castiel welcomed them back into his office to work out the finer details, shooting a glance at the Deacon who took stock of the couple before waving him off. A wedding was the perfect thing to get his mind off the odd man who passed like a ghost in his church.

xXx

Castiel wiped at the sweat on his brow as he continued down the street. He had fliers to put up and the heat wasn’t going to stop him from reaching out to more parishioners. The neighborhood that his church was in was a relatively sporadic one. He didn’t even have a sidewalk along the street where his church was, but he didn’t let that get to him as his feet slipped again on the gravel of the side of the road. His hat falling into his eyes every so often as his hair stuck to his forehead in the heat. The normally temperate weather turning into an unbearable one as he made his way along the road, stopping every once in a while, to put a flier on a telephone pole or light post. Unfortunately, they were far and few between and the summer sun was beating down on his back. Even in his short sleeves he was sweating through his clothes. He watched a few people who he knew from his clergy wave or give him a honk, but he just waved them on with a smile or a nod of the head.

Castiel was currently in the middle of taping up a flier when the sound of an older car passed behind him. The deep rumble making his head turn, but just as he did he was barely able to catch the bumper of the older car. Cas went back to putting up his flier when the sound of the car came by again and seemed to idle somewhere behind him. Castiel finished taping up the flier and turned to look again at the black vehicle and was surprised to see that it was directly behind him, its driver leaning over the passenger seat to speak to him out the open window.

“Hey, Padre, you look a little warm around the collar.” Dean called with a faint smile. Castiel shifted his fliers and supplies that he was keeping in a basket on his arm. The weight of it less after all his walking, but it was still would leave his arms sore for a few days after this excursion. Castiel walked tentatively towards the older vehicle. Dean reached further over and opened the door just a touch. “Come on, I can drop you off to wherever you need to go.” Castiel put his hand on the edge of the open door, still standing on the edge of the road that met the unpaved gravel.

“Weren’t you just going the opposite way?” Castiel couldn’t help but point out that he had distinctly seen and heard the vehicle pass by him once before turning around. Dean leaned back into the driver’s seat at Castiel’s comment.

“Just get in.” Castiel weighed his options before he slid into the smooth leather of the vehicle. He arranged his basket at his feet and took his hat off after closing the door in a swift movement. Dean watched as he did so before pulling back out onto the road. “I thought you’d be wearing one of those round hats, you know to better block out the sun.” Castiel watched as Dean kept both hands firmly on the wheel and only took a second to glance at Castiel as they made their way down the road.

“A saturno can only be worn with a cassock.” Castiel saw Dean’s eyes flick towards him, taking in his current attire. “Bishop Michael doesn’t mandate we wear the cassock.” Dean gave him another quick flick of his eyes but didn’t look like he had any more understanding than before Castiel had explained.

“What have you got in there?” Dean looked forward a bit to gaze into the basket at Castiel’s feet. After getting a good look he sat back in his seat.

“I’m putting up fliers to inform people of the summer kids programs I have set up for the kids who need a place to be while their parents are away at work.” Castiel reached down, his hat falling back onto the ridge of his eyebrows. He grabbed a flier from under the stapler and tape and showed it to Dean. The man reached out and grabbed the flier, his eyes darted from the flier to the road as he skimmed the paper. Castiel reached into his pocket and drank down the rest of his water. He watched out of the corner of his eyes as Dean folded up the flier with one hand and put it in his jean pocket.

“Were you going to walk the entire way into the city?” Dean kept his eyes on the road as he spoke. The vehicle slowing down as they approached a red light. The wind from the open windows felt like a blessing on Castiel’s overheated skin.

“That or the bus.” Castiel said flatly. Dean made a sound in the back of his throat as he acknowledged Castiel’s comment.

“With how the busses are around here, you would be better off walking.” There was a gruffness to Dean’s voice. Castiel wondered where he had acquired at for a man as young as he was. He looked at Dean next to him and saw something swing slightly on his chest as the car moved along the road. A necklace hung low on his chest; it must have been the shine that he had seen in the confessional all those months ago. Castiel let the car fall into silence as he watched the buildings on either side of them pass in a blur. He had no specific place in mind, he just planned on looking for any bulletin boards he could find that would let him post his fliers. He knew some of his parishioners ran some businesses around the city, but he didn’t know the lay out of the city just yet to know if he could get there in the time allotted today. Eventually, Dean pulled off to the side of the road, parking along one of the many lines of parking meters.

“Thank you, Dean Winchester.” Castiel got out, gathering his stuff in his arms, stepping out onto the sidewalk. He started to walk away when he heard Dean calling after him. He turned and saw Dean wrestling with the parking meter. He was shoving quarters into the machine haphazardly.

“Hey, wait up Padre.” Castiel took his hat off and wiped at his forehead. He quickly replaced it as Dean jogged to catch up to him. “I put a couple hours into the machine.” Castiel watched him with a wrinkled brow as he tried to understand where Dean was going with this.

“Did you have business in the city?” Castiel shifted the basket from arm to arm as the wicker of the handle dug into his flesh. Dean put his hands in his pockets, his face a little flushed from the heat and he could see a sheen of sweat break out on his forehead. The collar of his short sleeve shirt had a few drops of sweat on it.

“It’s hot outside.” Castiel could feel the sun beating down on the back of his neck as he watched Dean wiggle his fingers in his pockets. He knew he would have a sun burn there and he was mentally kicking himself for not bringing any sunscreen.

“Yes, it is, I would like to get at least half of these put up before I need to return to the church.” Castiel turned around and started to walk towards the nearest telephone pole. He heard quick steps and soon enough Dean was walking beside him. Instead of saying anything, Dean reached over and pulled out some fliers from his basket. Castiel halted as Dean had now an armful of fliers and the stapler in his hands. The only thing left in his basket was an unopened water bottle and the tape.

“Four hands are better than two.” Dean’s face was flushed red as the sun continued its unrelenting assault on their backs. Castiel adjusted his hat but said nothing as he walked towards the telephone pole. Castiel grabbed a flier from Dean and placed it on the wood, the pole full of old staples and nails from people doing this exact thing over and over again. Castiel turned back to grab the stapler, but Dean had already reached out to put four punches into the paper. He grunted a bit on the last one and switched hands as he shook out the hand that had held the stapler previously. “Damn, Padre, you must have hands of steel.” Castiel moved further down the sidewalk, Dean catching up to walk next to him.

“You get used to it eventually.” Castiel walked to the corner of the street, the four light poles each getting their own flier. He was kind of glad Dean decided to tag along, the ones that needed taping was a hassle with only two hands. Dean was almost eager to help as he hastily got everything ready while Castiel held the paper to the pole. They had missed the first cross walk light, but the second one they strode across to the other side, repeating the process for the four light poles on that side as well. Dean didn’t even complain when they crossed the street several times to post fliers on every pole on each corner. Once they were walking along the sidewalk once again Castiel took the moment to prod a little more into the man next to him.

“How did your talk go over this your brother?” He could see Dean’s jaw clench as he asked, but other then that he didn’t give any indication that he was bothered by the question.

“Good.” They stopped so Castiel could reach down and place a flier on the side of a newspaper box. Dean was looking away towards an open parking lot beside them. Castiel grabbed his basket again in his arms and continued on. If he was going to get any more out of Dean, he would have to play his game. They continued to walk in silence for a few more streets before Castiel sat down on a stray bench and cracked open the water bottle in his basket. He offered the bottle to Dean. Dean took a look at it, hesitancy written over his face before he grabbed it from Castiel and drank about half of it down before looking over guiltily at Castiel and handing it back over. Castiel finished up the last of the water before putting the empty bottle back in his basket.

“Hey, uh, Father?” Castiel turned to him to take in Dean’s sudden discomfort. He was playing with the edges of the small stack of papers in his lap.

“Yes, Dean?” Dean leant back a bit and looked up towards the sky before he started to speak again. His eyes narrowing as the midday sun started to crest.

“You mind if I take the rest of these back to my, uh, uncle’s shop? It get’s pretty busy around summer time and there’s always parents bringing their kids in with them.” Castiel looked at the small stack in Dean’s hands. There were no more than a hundred fliers left. They had walked for quite some time, Castiel was sure it had been at least a few hours at this point. He had started early this morning and by the time Dean had picked him up, he was sure it was approaching 10am. His arms were starting to get tender from having been out in the sun this long without wearing sunscreen on top of the fact that he had been carrying the basket this entire time. He’d be surprised if he didn’t have a line of untanned skin from where the handle rested on his forearm.

“I don’t see why not.” Dean seemed to visibly relax. Castiel wanted to ask him why he seemed so tense in his presence and yet offered to follow him around, helping him, as he did this otherwise menial task. Instead he settled on the less antagonistic question, “What kind of shop does your uncle run?” Dean had a glint in his eye as he brought up his uncle. He had a faint smile on his face and Castiel couldn’t help but notice the faint dusting of freckles on the man’s face.

“He’s a mechanic and kind of a scrap yard, but mostly he’s a mechanic.” Castiel nodded his head as Dean explained. “He taught me everything I know about fixing up cars.” Castiel narrowed his eyes a little as his eyes moved down to look at Dean’s arms which were pressed firmly to his sides, as if he was afraid to spread out next to Castiel.

“Is that the business you and your brother work in?” Castiel knew he was probably prodding at something a little tender, but he was curious about this man beside him. The mysteries he held behind his bright green eyes and lightly freckled cheekbones. Castiel watched as his face fell a fraction, his eyes taking on a darker turn.

“I mean I help Bobby out with the cars, but no.” He did not elaborate, but he didn’t seem as closed off as Castiel had initially thought he was going to be. He still sat ramrod straight next to him, but otherwise looked like he was willing to answer some of Castiel’s questions. Castiel decided to back off, the stormy look in Dean’s eyes had him hesitant to delve any further into the business he and his brother specialized in that caused so much turmoil within his life.

“If you’re going to take the rest of those then I think my job is done here.” Castiel stood up from the bench and started walking further into he city. He could feel Dean’s eyes on his back before there was a rustling and Dean had made quick strides to catch up to him. A hand on his shoulder stopped Castiel in his tracks.

“Hey, where you going?” Dean looked slightly disheartened before his face seemed to collect itself and a curious look came over his face.

“To look for a bus stop.” He said it as if it was the most natural course of action. He turned once again to start walking away, but Dean’s hold on his shoulder only tightened. He looked down at the hand on his shoulder, which was enough to have Dean take his hand off of him as if he was burnt.

“I can drive you.” Castiel tilted his head at the suggestion. Dean had the fliers held firmly against his chest with the hand that hadn’t reached out to grab him.

“I can’t pay you back.” Dean took a step back from the priest. He watched as Dean’s eyes scanned his face several times before his brows furrowed together, darkening his expression. Castiel shifted the basket in his hand as sweat made his fingers slip on the wicker handle.

“I don’t want you to pay me back.” Dean’s face had pinched together as he dared to shift his feet. He shook his shoulders a bit as he seemed to be dispelling any tension in them with the simple motion. “I don’t want you to get stranded around here waiting for a bus.” There was something in his voice that made Castiel narrow his eyes and turn fully to Dean. The full force of his stare had Dean shuffling his feet and rubbing the back of his neck. “Come on, Padre, it’s too hot out here to argue.” Castiel had to agree with that statement and took a step towards Dean, who seemed to let go of his breath as he did so.

“Very well, but don’t think of yourself as my personal chauffeur.” Castiel walked around Dean and started back the way they had arrived. Dean turned on his heel to follow along beside him.

“Yeah, I think I can do that.” Dean walked with a little bit of a swagger that forced Castiel to walk a little closer to the buildings than he normally would. He ignored the way his stomach growled and he made his way back to the corner of the street. He stopped at the light and stared across the street for a moment before Dean cleared his throat next to him, “This way, Padre.” Castiel looked up at the signs on the signal lights for a second before following Dean, his mild countenance urging him to follow.

“I haven’t been to town all that often, only to get groceries.” Castiel followed behind at a brisk pace before he caught up to Dean. Dean’s necklace bounced off his chest while he walked. It reminded him of a fetish he had seen once in the reliquary of one of the many churches he had been in.

“If you keep staring at me, you’ll give me a complex.” Castiel looked up as he spoke, catching his eyes before turning to look down the sidewalk. There were a few people at the next crosswalk. Castiel could hear them chatting amongst themselves.

“I was admiring your necklace.” Cas stated before they reached the group of people waiting for the crosswalk sign to turn green. A few people lowered their voices when they saw Castiel, but he gave them a small smile when they looked back at him. They’re volume didn’t resume, but the continued on with their conversation.

“Oh, my brother gave it to me.” Castiel continued to stare at the red hand while Dean spoke. The crosswalk adjacent to them turned green and a few people separated from the group they had been gathered in.

“What’s he like?” Castiel figured the best way to get Dean to open up about himself was to ask about someone he cared about. He could tell from the look of the man standing next to him that he was unaccustomed to dealing out information so close to his heart. Dean’s stance shifted as the crosswalk light turned green and they began to walk.

“He’s tall. And smart, way smarter than me. He’s a nerd. But that’s what you get for having a wanna be lawyer as your brother.” Castiel could feel the conflicted emotions rolling off of Dean as they continued to walk. Castiel was careful to watch Dean’s feet as to lead them where to go. He hadn’t realized how lost he had gotten them during their work. There were entire buildings that looked foreign to him as he would occasionally get bumped by Dean’s shoulder as the man walked with his bowed legs taking up a large portion of the sidewalk. Castiel let the conversation drop as Dean’s tone and his body language tensed at the line of questioning. The walked the rest of the way to the car in complete silence. Castiel didn’t find it all that uncomfortable, but he could almost feel the questions Dean wanted to ask, but held in. Eventually Castiel could see the black vehicle shining brightly up the street from them. It seems that Dean had in fact led them on a different route back to the car. Dean walked to his side of the car, slipping in before he reached over and let Castiel in. The car was stifling from having been sitting in the sun all day. Castiel was quick to roll down his window to try and let some of the heat out. A new wave of sweat broke out on his forehead and he took his hat off, waving it towards himself to try and circulate some air in the car.

Dean was quick to turn on the vehicle and pull off into the road. He started to ease himself as they got further out of town. The fliers were placed in the middle of the bench seat, being held down by the middle belt buckle. There was the faint sound of music coming from the stereo, but Dean didn’t move to turn it up while he drove.

“What made you want to become a priest?” Castiel turned his head from where it was looking out the window. Dean’s eyes flicked a few times between the road and Castiel’s face.

“I enjoy helping people.” Dean gave a half smile and some noise out his nose.

“We aren’t so different then.” Cas tilted his head at the comment. While he wasn’t known to look down on anyone for the choices in their life, Castiel’s head was reeling from the implication that him entering seminary school is not entirely different than what kind of business that Dean Winchester deals in. All he knew was that he sometimes worked on cars with his uncle, but that was not the business that he pulled his brother out of law school for. Castiel used the little crack in the door to press his foot in and try and see into the darkened room of Dean’s mind.

“You help people as well?” Castiel kept his voice even as though not to rise suspicion that what Dean was saying was a lie. He knew next to nothing about this man and the sins he had committed very well could have been a byproduct of his job. Helping people seemingly being the root cause of that.

“Yeah, I mean. That’s not why my dad got into the business, but when I got old enough I was more interested in helping people than vengeance.” Castiel gave a brief drag of his eyes from Dean’s face, to the amulet at his neck, taking in all the finer details of the man in the driver’s seat. Castiel turned to look out the windshield as to keep his words from being too pointed.

“Those who seek vengeance ought dig two graves.” He could see Dean move his head in response, probably a nod.

“Someone should have told my dad.” Dean didn’t sound sad or melancholic in his response, if anything he seemed almost resigned. Castiel decided to prod a little while he had the chance.

“How did he die?” Castiel gave an askance look to Dean, but kept his head forward to look out the windshield. The city was behind them now and he could see they were a few streets at most from the church.

“He was shot.” It was all Dean was willing to give him, but Castiel didn’t feel like prying any further. The church was coming up on their left and Castiel started to realize how exhausted he was. His stomach was still in knots after not having anything to eat since this morning, some seven hours ago. Dean pulled into the little parking lot of the church, siding himself up with the front doors of the church. Castiel grabbed his stuff, placing his hat delicately on his head and stepped out of the car.

“Thank you, Dean Winchester.” He leant down into the window of the car. Dean played with the leather of the steering wheel.

“Any time, Padre.” Castiel straightened and turned to enter the church, the sound of the engine revving onto the street was audible before he reached the handle.

xXx

Night in the church was usually full of Castiel writing at his desk while the moon continued to rise in the sky. The light shining through the windows behind him. The summer had made every part of the church nearly as hot inside as it was outside, but more so once he was in his office. Normally. Today he felt like throwing on a coat while he sat writing away at his desk. He was in the middle of writing up his speech for Mass when he heard noises coming from the nave. He looked at the clock on the wall before getting up to open the door down the long hallway. He waited a moment, listening for anything else before he walked into the main building. Typically Deacon Neil stayed until the sun started to set, and then he was off to his own home. Castiel took a step out into the hallway before he heard another clatter further down the hall. Castiel was quick to head down the hallway towards the other closed door.

His doors were usually unlocked if he was here so that people could come and go as they pleased. He knew that faith didn’t always keep a schedule. He opened the door to the nave and looked around in the darkened cavern of the church. He grabbed the flashlight he kept next to the door and flicked it on, the moon not visible from its angle in the sky making the church seem much darker than usual. Castiel flashed the beam around the entirety of the church. He couldn’t see anyone in the pews. He shone his light up into the gallery, and still he didn’t see anyone. He stepped out onto the raised dais to try and get a better look at the whole church. Still there was no one. Castiel ran a hand through his hair. Some animals must have gotten in through the faulty insulation that made up the entire church. He mentally added it to the list of touch ups that the church needed. He turned back towards the hallway to his office and decided to try and get some sleep. He set the light back on the wall and locked the door behind him. He rubbed at his eyes as exhaustion finally started to pull on his eyelids.

Castiel set about putting his things away in his office before turning off the lights in his office, plunging himself in moonlit darkness. He took a moment to adjust his eyes before he made his way to his bedroom, stripping down to his boxers, suddenly too exhausted to put on something more decent. He used the last bit of his energy to kneel beside his bed and say a quick prayer, crossing himself, before slipping into bed, pulling the sheets all the way up to his chin despite the usual heat of the summer nights.

Morning came too quickly for Castiel as his eyes could barely open up to the early morning light streaming into his room. He lay looking up at the ceiling for a long moment before the urge to use the bathroom was much too pressing. His head felt groggier than usual as he dragged himself to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and took stock of the dark circles under his eyes. He groaned before using the rest room. It was while he was standing over the toilet relieving himself that he saw marks running from his wrist to his elbow on the back of his forearm. He squinted his eyes, finishing using the restroom before he washed his hands and looked closer at the marks. He had three distinct lines running in long, jagged gashes on his tanned flesh. The cuts weren’t deep, but they stung a bit when he washed his hands and the soap got into the open wounds. He must have scratched himself in his sleep. He was more disturbed at the fact he would have to wear a long sleeved shirt, lest he get the prying eyes of his parish. Castiel decided to wash his arms up the full length of the scratches before he dried off and started his morning routine.

He set about starting breakfast before he went into adjoining bedroom and got dressed for the day. He was thankful that this post had a washer and dryer, even if they were of an older variety. If he needed clean clothes at his last church he had to take two buses to the nearest laundromat. It was an exhausting adventure to say the least. Castiel grimaced at pulling out the long sleeved shirt in his closet. While last night had been particularly chilly, he knew that today would be rather warm, and he had a summer activity planned for the children today. He had luckily been able to enlist the help of his neighbor priest, Father Freely. Between Deacon Neil, Father Freely, and himself he should be able to handle the sudden influx of children that seemed to appear overnight. While he didn’t mind the increase, he quickly realized that he could only effectively handle a maximum of twenty children on his own. He hadn’t had enough practice for any more.

Castiel finished buttoning himself up as he smelt his eggs in the pan. He walked into he kitchen and went to flip them, but couldn’t find the spatula. He desperately looked around for the utensil, but it had seemingly vanished into thin air. Castiel took his eggs off the heat while he steeled himself to attempt to flip the eggs using the pan. He wasn’t a culinary artist, but he had some skills that he knew in the kitchen. His mind lingering on the fact he couldn’t find his spatula, but he spent too long concentrating on not flipping the eggs onto the ground to be overly worried about it. It would turn up. Castiel barely managed to flip the eggs with a huff. They landed a little sideways on top of themselves, but he managed to get all of it into the pan. He set it back down on the stove and let them finish cooking while he went around grabbing a few other things to eat. He looked at the clock on the older microwave, gauging how much time he would have before the children arrived. Castiel set about plating his food when a knock sounded at the door to his kitchen. He usually kept it open, but he had taken to closing it since the nights had gotten so cold recently. He opened it to see Father Freely standing in the door frame.

“Father Novak, glad to see you!” Castiel let Father Freely into his kitchen, he started to grab another plate, but the other priest seemed to guess his intentions. “No, I’ve already eaten, thank you for your generosity.” Castiel put the plate back and finished plating his food.

“Good Morning, Father Freely. Do you mind if I have my breakfast?” Father Freely waved a hand at him and sat in the only other seat available at the small table within the kitchen. Castiel set his plate down, sitting next to Father Freely. Castiel clasped his hands, resting his head on his thumbs, saying a quick blessing before he opened his eyes to start eating.

“The long sleeves today Father?” Castiel wanted to ignore the question, but he instead took his time chewing before he answered.

“I seem to have scratched myself rather roughly in my sleep.” Castiel set his fork down before he undid the button at his wrist and rolled his sleeve up just an inch to show the marks on his arm. Father Freely leaned in to inspect them with a curious glance.

“That’s rather unfortunate.” Father Freely leant back in his seat as Castiel covered his arm back up with his sleeve and continued to eat. “Looks like we’ll be staying inside for today’s activities.” Father Freely crossed his legs and clasped his hands over his knee. “Are you settling in here nicely then?” Father Freely looked around at the little kitchen space they were currently in. “Father Thaddeus usually kept to himself back here if he wasn’t doing sermons. He didn’t engage with the community the way you do.” Father Freely’s eyes landed on him, something akin to delight in his eyes. Castiel answered by taking a bite of his toast. He didn’t want to engage in any gossip, it was the thing he hated the most about the priesthood. Gossip was ingrained into nearly every facet of society, why would that be any different just because the people behind it were individuals of God.

“I’m sure he had his reasons.” Castiel finished eating and stood up to set his dishes in the sink. He gave them a rinse, but otherwise left them there. He washed his hands and turned to see Father Freely standing in the doorway of his office. Castiel let him lead the way as they headed back into the main hall of the church. Deacon Neil was there, his face pinched as he stood near the side chapel. Castiel walked over to him while Father Freely continued on towards the narthex to greet anyone who might have arrived early. Deacon Neil gave him a glance before he tilted his head toward the chapel. Castiel followed him into the smaller room.

“Was anyone here late last night?” Castiel looked at Deacon Neil with a narrowed glance. Deacon Neil turned and pointed to the candles on the edge of the altar. Castiel saw a few candles were knocked down and it looked like they had marks in them, like someone had grabbed them with untrimmed nails.

“No, but I did hear something last night. It must have been rats or mice.” Deacon Neil raised an eyebrow to him, but seemed otherwise satisfied with that answer. Castiel and Deacon Neil left the chapel, but Castiel couldn’t help the strange feeling that settled in his gut. He thought maybe he had eaten too fast and pushed the feeling to the back of his mind when he heard the first voices of kids at the entrance.

Between the three of them they were able to entertain the nearly 45 kids that had arrived. Castiel didn’t keep a record sheet, but part of him felt like he should. He was worried that if he kept some sort of sign in sheet, people would assume this was a mandatory part of the church, and exhaust themselves trying to bring their kids every day. But also he wanted to be able to keep track of who was coming and going in case of an emergency. He was still learning the ropes after a week of doing this. The first couple days had been an interesting learning curve, but he had managed. Today they had moved a section of the pews to create an open area in the nave for the children. Deacon Neil and Castiel had found some foldable tables that they were using for the main focus of today’s activities. Castiel was glad to be inside, even as his scratches started to itch. He would occasionally rub at them before he would catch himself and put his hands to his side. Father Freely was on one end of the table teaching the children how to play Werewolf. The younger kids seemed to flock around Castiel and Deacon Neil was busy helping the kids who would rather sit together and read than interact with other kids outside of sharing books. Castiel kept a collection of books in his office once he decided that he would be doing these summer programs. He knew there would be days when they couldn’t go outside.

Castiel helped the younger kids stay entertained. Most of the time it was trading stories, even if some of the younger ones were still working on how to formulate full sentences. He had some experience with younger children, but that usually was in regards to changing them or feeding them. They had managed to keep the kids busy for a few hours, they’re parents were required to provide them with a lunch since the kitchen here wasn’t stocked with food for nearly 50 people, let alone 50 growing children who seemed to eat endlessly. The kids would usually eat their whole lunches throughout the day rather than in one sitting. Castiel heard the clapping on the other side of the table and saw several kids pointing at another. Castiel heard Father Freely speak over the din of the clapping and then silence as the kids opened their eyes and they began discussing. Suddenly a loud chorus of groans fill up the otherwise quiet nave followed by laughing and a few yells.

“Father Freely, can we go outside and run around?” One of the kids spoke up once the clamor had died down. A few kids perked up at that. Even some of the kids that were sitting reading strewn out on the pews and on the ground.

“Let me ask Father Novak what he thinks.” Castiel looked out the window at the side yard. The West side of the church was a large open plot of patchy grass where the East side was used for the graveyard. The only problem was that there wasn’t any fencing along the plot of grass and one end butted up against the road. Castiel hummed as all eyes turned on him.

“Alright, but you all have to promise to stay on the grass.” A few cheers went up before Castiel, Father Freely, and Deacon Neil got up, gathering up the gaggle of children. A few of the older ones raced to the front doors before Father Freely called after them to wait until the rest of the group had joined them. They waited until Father Freely reached the narthex before they hightailed it towards the West plot of land. The youngest children there were four, which meant that there were still a few kids who needed to be led around to the plot of grass and kept a close eye on in case they wandered off. Deacon Neil made sure everyone had cleaned up their books and set them on the folding table before he joined the rest of the group outside. Once outside the older kids started to group themselves up and the youngest kids sat on the patch of grass closest to the church. It was interesting to watch as they all settled into their own games. Castiel and Father Freely walked over to the end of the plot that backed up to the street. Deacon Neil stayed closer to the church to look after the smaller children gathered there.

“Let me know if you get too warm. I don’t mind taking over while you cool off.” Father Freely gave him a sideways glance as they settled with their backs to the road as kids started to run around in the grass, their energy seemingly unbounding. Castiel already had sweat starting to drip down the back of his neck, but he ignored it. The most irritating part of being outside was the desire to roll up his sleeves, but couldn’t as he stood standing in the sun.

“Thank you, I’ll be sure to let you know if the need arrives.” Castiel didn’t dislike Father Freely. He had spoken with him quite a few times before he asked him to help chaperone his summer activities. He had high aspirations and Castiel couldn’t fault him for that. He had the air of a cardinal if he ever met one. Castiel found that he was much more interested in staying put than he was in climbing the ranks. They continued to talk about seemingly nothing. They traded stories back and forth about people they had met, Castiel saying a soft ‘amen’ after every shared story. Castiel found that he was hypervigilant to the sound of cars driving behind him. The road wasn’t overly busy on a normal day, but every car that passed by had Castiel’s ears trained on the sound as it disappeared behind him. He didn’t know what it was he was looking for as his eyes continued to scan the children playing in the yard, but every car passing by was like a shiver down his spine. He realized that what he was listening for was the deep purr of Dean Winchester’s antique vehicle. Castiel didn’t linger on why his ears were listening for that sound, but he elected to shove it into the back of his mind as he gave a noncommittal response to Father Freely.

Any and all thoughts of Dean Winchester would sit right next to the thoughts of whatever had caused him to scratch his arms so haphazardly last night to leave long red lines in their wake.

Just as Castiel opened his mouth to make a comment to Father Freely, a child’s terrified scream erupted in the plot. Everyone stopped as the sound sent a chill down Castiel’s spine. The children, now startled, attempted to huddle together. Some of the youngest children started to wail in response. Castiel did his best to figure out where the scream had originated from. The children all seemed to be looking towards the east side of the property. Father Freely and Deacon Neil headed towards the huddled mass of children, trying to calm them down. Castiel headed towards the east side of the church, taking notice of the open gate leading to the graveyard. Castiel closed the gate behind him as he walked through the headstones, looking for the wayward child that had wandered out of their sight. Castiel wasn’t even sure how they had managed to sneak off, but he was thankful they were still on the property and hadn’t run out into the street.

He listened for a moment and heard the telltale sniffling of a crying child. Castiel looked around until he spotted the child curled up in the fetal position next to one of the gravestones. Castiel carefully approached them as not to startle them any further.

“Hey, Caleb.” Castiel made his voice soft as the child started a little at the announcement of Castiel’s arrival. “Come here, son.” Castiel knelt down and held his arms out for Caleb to approach. The small boy took one glance at his outstretched arms before running into them, crying louder now into Castiel’s shoulder. The boy was no more than 8 and his parents were active in the church life. They usually sat in the front row, always arriving the earliest of all his parishioners. The boy was pretty outspoken and he had even started bringing his own bible to mass. The boy was shaking in his arms despite the heat of the day. Castiel picked the boy up and held him close to his chest as he walked out of the graveyard. He made sure to shut the gate on his way out. He saw that everyone was still grouped together on the yard. The children’s eyes wide as they took in the scene. Castiel made a movement to indicate that he was going to go inside with Caleb. The young boy was still crying softly and sniffling into his shoulder as they got inside and Castiel went all the way back to his kitchen. He went to set down Caleb, but the boy grappled at his shoulders, his hands looking for anywhere to grab that would stop Castiel from setting him down.

“No!” He cried out and it nearly broke Castiel’s heart. Castiel rubbed the young boys back instead to try and sooth him. He wanted to get him some water, but he would need the boy to let go of him first.

“I’m just going to set you down, so that way I can get you some water, Caleb.” The boy clenched harder at Castiel’s shoulders, but after a moment he nodded into his shoulder and Castiel set him down in the seat. Caleb’s face was red and his nose was leaking snot in the usual way that crying children always seemed to cause. Castiel was quick to get a glass and fill it with some cool water before he returned to kneel in front Caleb. Caleb drank greedily from the glass, nearly finishing the whole thing before he came up for air. He still had tears silently streaming down his face, but he looked calmer than before.

“Hey, Caleb, you wanna tell me what happened?” Castiel got up to refill the water and get Caleb some tissues. Caleb took the tissues this time and started wiping at his face randomly. He was silent while he did so. Castiel put the glass of water on the table and resumed his kneeling position in front of Caleb. Caleb was taking deep breaths now, but still hadn’t said anything. “You aren’t in trouble, I just want to make sure you’re alright.” It would take a little while longer before Caleb felt comfortable speaking. Castiel sat on one knee, waiting patiently for Caleb to speak. His hands clasped in his lap to show he would wait for Caleb until he was ready and that there was no anger in his request.

“I- “ Caleb started, he hiccupped halfway through as his tears finally dried up. “-I thought I saw someone. They went into the graveyard.” Castiel kept his face neutral even though his mind was racing with thoughts. “When I got in there they disappeared and then I went to go back and someone grabbed my arm and pulled my down.” He gasped out as he help his arm against his chest. Castiel shifted slightly as he held his hands out for Caleb to put his arm into them. “That’s when I screamed.” Caleb looked worriedly at Castiel before putting his arm in Castiel’s outstretched hands. Castiel looked over the boys arm, but he didn’t see anything that would indicate that the boy had been grabbed.

“Does your arm hurt now?” Castiel set Caleb’s arm back on the boy’s lap before moving to sit in the chair next to him.

“No.” Castiel let out a sigh. “I wanna go home Father Novak.” Caleb said in a small voice. Castiel nodded. He got up and reached the landline that sat on the wall of the kitchen.

“Do you want me to call your mother or your father?” Caleb sniffled a little as he started to gulp down more water. Castiel waited while Caleb finished the glass.

“My mom. She’s at work.” Castiel nodded as Caleb gave him his mother’s work number. The conversation was quick, his mother promising to be here shortly and to wait for her out front. He didn’t go into detail about what happened over the phone, he decided to leave that for when they met in person. Once he got off the phone, Caleb looked like he was mostly back to normal. Castiel sat back down in the seat next to Caleb.

“Can you tell me about the person you saw, Caleb?” Castiel kept his hands on his thighs as he leaned into Caleb’s space. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was asking, part of him was sure the boy had merely been following an imaginary friend when he fell on the uneven land of the graveyard, but part of him was reminded of the scene at the altar, and the scratches on his arm.

“It was a little boy.” Castiel leant back a bit. If there was another boy out there he would have seen him. Castiel felt something cold run down his spine at the thought that he had left another child out there, but he swallowed it down. Caleb was the only one in that graveyard save for himself.

“Was it anyone who is apart of the group?” Castiel grabbed the empty glass of water and set it in the sink before he sat back down. Caleb’s face was back to it’s normal color and he looked calmer.

“No, the boy looked….cold.” Castiel squinted a bit at the boys wording.

“Cold? How so?” Caleb shook his head.

“His hands were kinda blue?” Caleb sounded like he wasn’t even sure himself. Castiel pressed his lips together in a thin line before he stood up and gently put a hand on Caleb’s shoulder.

“Come on, let’s go wait for your mom at the doors.” Caleb jumped up and walked ahead of Castiel. He led the way through the office, the hallway, and then all the way through the nave to the narthex. Castiel trailed behind a little bit as he processed the information that Caleb had given him. He heard a woman’s voice at the door and Caleb’s followed shortly after. Castiel walked out onto the sidewalk to see Caleb’s mother holding him in a tight hug.

“Father Novak.” She said as he approached. She stood up, holding Caleb to her side still. “What happened?” She had a fearful look in her eyes as she dared the question.

“It seems maybe some other boy got out of hand with Caleb and gave him a little bit of a fright.” Castiel didn’t know if that was a lie or the truth, but he said it anyways. He would speak with Father Freely about confession should the guilt of the answer weigh too heavily on him. Caleb didn’t say anything to confirm or deny the answer. He merely held tighter onto his mother. She ran a hand through his hair, either to soothe Caleb or herself he wasn’t sure. “I will be sure to speak with the other kids and warn them about getting too rough.” Sandra nodded as she looked down at her son. The other children were still playing in the lot, the fear of the last half an hour seemingly dissipated. Father Freely gave him a look from his spot by the edge of the yard, but Castiel ignored him.

“Thank you Father Novak.” Castiel gave a small nod before Sandra and Caleb walked the short distance to their car and headed on their way. This incident had solidified his choice to create a sign in sheet, if not for the 'case of emergency' contacts for the children in his care. He would announce it at Mass on Sunday. He turned to Father Freely and started his trek across the parking lot to the west side of the church.

xXx

Castiel woke up with a start when he heard something loud crash in the nave. He was quick to throw on his robe and run through his office to the hallway, grabbing the flashlight on the wall in his haste. He threw open the door leading to the nave and looked around at the scene he stumbled on. There was a broken window on the west side of the church, the glass shone brightly in his flashlight beam. Castiel walked over to the broken window and sighed heavily. He looked around at rest of the church and his heart lurched in his throat as he saw the open and nearly empty chest sitting strewn along the aisle. Castiel walked over, looking at the empty parish chest with a heavy heart. The edge of the chest was busted as if they had used a crow bar of sorts to force open the locks. There was only about five dollars in cash and a few other dollars in loose change at the bottom of the chest. Castiel sent up a silent prayer as he walked back to his office to phone the police.

After the call was made and the dispatcher promised that someone would be on the way to check in on him and take his statement, Castiel got to work cleaning up the shards of glass littering the ground of the nave. He had changed into more presentable clothing and was busy sweeping along the stone floor of the church when the thundering knock sounded at the front door. Castiel had gotten most of the glass picked up and in the trash, so he headed over to the door to let the police in. Two uniformed officers took their hats off as they stepped into the church. Castiel led them over to the broken window that he was currently attempting to clean up. The open chest left untouched.

“Good Morning, Father.” One of them said as they followed him. Castiel nodded at them. “I’m officer Sterix and my partner officer Jones.” Castiel turned around to offer his hand to both of the officers. Jones walked away and went to look at the parish chest now devoid of alms. “You mind telling me what happened?” Sterix had his notepad out and was ready to take notes about what Castiel had witnessed. He explained to them what happened and after Jones did a walk around the church to make sure they weren’t still in the area, they both left with a promise that they would call if they had any information about the identity of the people who had stolen all the alms out of the parish chest and destroyed his window. Castiel was kicking himself for locking the large doors. At least if they were going to steal then they didn’t have to break his window. Castiel went back to cleaning up the glass when the sound of footsteps sounded behind him.

Castiel stood up, turning around quickly to see Dean walking briskly into the church followed by a taller man with medium length hair. Castiel threw away the glass in the garbage next to him before setting the items down and turning an inquisitive glance to the incoming men.

“Dean, if you’re here for confession, this will be the moment in which I say that it’s a little too late.” Dean took a glance back at the other man before he shook his head stiffly.

“No, we’re actually here because we heard over the radar that there was a B&E at St. Liza’s.” Castiel was somehow more confused than before when he thought that Dean had shown up here in the middle of the night to make confession. Castiel wasn’t sure what question he wanted answered first. Instead he just watched as the taller man walked over and stared at the empty parish chest.

“Who steals from a church?” The man asked softly as he looked away from the parish chest and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.

“5-0 already arrive?” Dean looked around at the last little mess of glass left from the theft. Castiel followed his gaze, the thought of fixing the window suddenly consuming his thoughts. He had to get it covered before he went to bed or who knows what else would welcome themselves into it. He was already contending with mice, he didn’t need anymore wild animals making homes of the church. He thought about the calls to the exterminators he had made only for them to arrive and announce that there wasn’t any indication that there was an infestation of any kind within the confines of the church. Despite Castiel having stayed up many a night listening to them scratch along the walls of his room. And the mess of the altar upon his awakening. They had even absconded with several other of his kitchen utensils. He had to buy at least two more spatulas since the first one was taken. It had been two weeks since he had lost the first one and his nights had only gotten more hectic, and now on top of the breaking and entering he would have to contend with. He doubted that the police would even be able to do anything given that Castiel didn’t see anything regarding the people who stole from him.

“Yes, the police came and took my statement.” Dean looked back at the other man and Castiel gave him a glance before looking back at Dean. The other man seemed to pick up on some que from Dean because he left the empty parish chest and back out the front door. Castiel thought he saw something in his hand when he left and he couldn’t help the dread that filled his stomach.

“That’s my little brother, by the way.” Dean motioned to where the other man was once standing. “His name is Sam.” Castiel nodded.

“I hate to be rude, but I have to finish cleaning up around here and then see if I can’t fix this window before I head back to sleep and perform my sermon tomorrow morning.” If Dean was offended by his bluntness, than he didn’t show it.

“What do you need me to do?” Castiel took a deep breath, he wasn’t sure the motives behind the man in front of him, but he would rather error on the side of caution. So far the man had arrived at the least opportune times and had managed to make several comments that left Castiel on edge. He had heard hundreds of confessions, but something about Dean Winchester’s confession sat like a stone in his stomach and pulled down on his heart as if the words had their own gravitational pull that was weighing down his heart and mind. Castiel didn’t think Dean Winchester meant him harm, but it seemed that bad news followed Dean like a noxious cloud.

“I need to finish picking up this glass and then I have to find something to cover this window.” Castiel made a motion to the broken window next to them. It was a rather large window and while most of the glass was on the ground, there were still shards clinging higher up on the sill. Dean took a long look at it before he made a noise that sounded like words, but Castiel was so frustrated he wasn’t sure what he might have said.

“I’ll be right back, I think I have just the thing.” Castiel didn’t even acknowledge him as Dean turned around and practically jogged to the front doors. A short time later, but long enough for Castiel to have finished cleaning the glass and what little money was in the alms box. The light from Castiel’s flashlight was barely enough to light up the small area let alone bright enough to light up the entire window for them to fix. He had knocked down the rest of the glass and cleaned that up as well when Dean returned with Sam, a bundle of opaque plastic in his hands. Castiel wanted to ask so many questions, but instead he just sent up a silent prayer as Dean unraveled the plastic.

“You got a ladder, Padre?” There was the dull sound of a thud and Castiel turned to see Sam had hit Dean on the shoulder in a reprimanding way. Dean made a pained noise before he turned to Sam, the silent look of ‘what’ coloring his face.

“Dean, be respectful.” Sam grunted, motioning to Castiel with his thumb. He made a little motion around his neck which Castiel could only assume meant that Castiel was ‘of the collar’. “He’s got a name.” He hissed before he pulled out a large roll of duct tape from his pocket. How he fit it in there he has no idea, but he went in search of the ladder. There was a storage closet not far from where the broken window was and there was a five foot ladder there for changing the lights under the gallery. He could still hear Sam and Dean bickering while his back was turned. He returned to the other men with the ladder in his hands, leaning it against the wall. Sam and Dean both gave it a quick glance before they pulled their fists out. After a few shakes and Sam designated the loser, Sam got up on the ladder. Dean grabbed the tarp from where it was unraveled on the ground as Sam climbed up on the smaller ladder. Thankfully Sam was rather tall and thus the missing height wasn’t a significant obstacle. Castiel watched as Sam climbed the ladder and Dean followed down below with the tarp. Castiel walked over to stabilize the ladder as Dean set about pulling long strips of tape off the roll and attaching them to Sam’s calves. Castiel heard a grunt from above him and saw Sam looking down at the long strips of tape with a roll of his eyes.

Sam set about taping up the tarp to the wooden panel of the window. He would grunt and strain as he reached the farthest corners of the window, but with his long arms he was able to manage it. Castiel didn’t know what he would do if he had to do this himself. He rubbed at his face with a yawn as Sam started on another side of the window.

“You aren’t looking too good, Padre.” Dean said from beside him. Castiel looked up briefly at the other man. Dean had his eyebrows cinched together in the middle as he took in Castiel’s appearance.

“It’s been a rough couple of weeks.” There was a creak from the ladder as Sam shot a glance back at the men below him before he resumed his task of fixing the window. Castiel didn’t notice the shared glance between the two brothers as he closed his eyes for a moment. “I’ve got rats that I can’t seem to get rid of.” Castiel let out a sigh as he opened his eyes and this time he saw that Sam and Dean were sharing an unreadable glance between them. “And now this.” He looked down at the empty parish chest as he finished talking.

“Rats?” Dean shoved his hands in his pockets, having set the roll of duct tape on one of the pews. Castiel turned his eyes back to him and gave a slight nod.

“They’re constantly knocking things off of the altar and I can hear them scratching at night.” Castiel watched as Dean’s face went completely blank as he listened to Castiel’s explanation. Dean’s arms tensed a little once he finished, but didn’t say anything else as Sam seemed to be listening with one ear while he finished taping up the tarp. Castiel watched as Sam sealed off the last little crack and Castiel stepped back from the ladder to let Sam get down. Castiel grabbed the ladder and walked the short distance to put it back into the storage closet. When he returned he saw that Sam and Dean were speaking in hushed tones close to each other. They stopped when they saw Castiel coming back. Castiel continued walking until he was past them and picking up the loose change on the ground to place into the nearly empty chest. He closed it as best he could and dragged it to the side of the aisle. It was still relatively heavy despite it having now been cleared of alms. The brother’s watched him as he set it back to it’s rightful spot and turned to thank them for their help.

Even if he wasn’t sure why they had arrived in the first place.

“Thank you for your assistance.” He reached his hand out to shake their in gratitude. Sam reached out first to grab his hand in his large grasp.

“Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself earlier, I’m Sam Winchester.” Castiel nodded and gave a thin lipped smile as he shook his hand back. “My brother told me a little bit about the new priest in town, but he didn’t tell me your name.” Castiel saw the tips of Dean’s ears flush red at Sam’s comment.

“Father Castiel Novak.” He dropped Sam’s hand and Sam looked a little uncomfortable after being given his title. “You can call me Father Novak if you’d like, or just Father.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck as Castiel turned to Dean, holding his hand out for him to take. Dean gave him a brief handshake, his ears still a little pink in his flashlight beam. “Thank you for your help.” The boys looked between each other again and Castiel tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing at the display. He didn’t like the way they seemed to be having a conversation right in front of him without having to even open their mouths.

“Hey, about those rats, uh…” Dean trailed off as he tried to search for the words to finish his thought. Sam gave him a sideways glance before cutting in.

“Have you felt any cold spots around here? Maybe you’ve woken up with scratches on you that you don’t remember giving to yourself.” The faint lines of the scratches on his arms seemed to burn at the mere mention. Castiel stared at the brothers with a pinched expression. He didn’t know where they were going with this line of questioning. Half of him wanted to know what it was they were digging at and part of him wanted them to leave his church right now and forget they had ever prodded at some of his own fears he had been contending with for the last two weeks. Castiel decided to forego a verbal answer and instead set the flashlight between his neck and shoulder and pulled up the sleeves of his robe.

Sam and Dean leaned in as Castiel showed off the fading lines of scratches on his arms. Dean reached out and skimmed his fingers over the back of the pinkish flesh. It was faint, just enough to get the hair on his arms to stand on end, but it made Castiel dart his eyes up to look at Dean who was still looking down at Castiel with a twisted countenance. Dean pulled his hand back quickly as if he realized where his hand was. Castiel covered his arms again with his sleeves and grabbed the flashlight from his shoulder.

“I don’t know about cold spots, but my bedroom is almost freezing regardless of the weather.” Castiel finally supplied. Sam reached into his jacket and pulled out a handheld device. He put his hand on Dean’s shoulder before he started wandering around the church, weaving his way through the pews. Dean led him to sit down in one of the said pews. Castiel was on edge by the entire exchange, but followed his direction anyways.

“Can you tell me everything that’s been…‘weird’ since you’ve been here?” Castiel pursed his lips as he thought about what it was Dean was asking. His whole life was relatively weird, so Dean would have to be a little more specific. “Have you had to bury anyone recently?” Castiel was still pondering over the weight of Dean’s words as he tried to urge an answer out of the priest.

“No, Dean are you suggesting that I am being…haunted?” Castiel let the disbelief and confusion drip heavily from his mouth. His back was aching from the way he had pressed himself into the pew. The line of questioning had made him as uncomfortable as if they were discussing his own personal sins.

“Listen, I know this sounds crazy, but I know you didn’t make those cuts yourself.” Dean pointed down at his arms, which Castiel reflexively crossed in front of himself. He suddenly regretted their presence within the church. “We just want to help. Like I told you, we help people.” Castiel was brought back to that sweltering day in Dean’s car when he told Castiel that they weren’t all that different. The man sitting in a short sleeved t-shirt, his chest adorned with an amulet and jeans that looked like even with a belt they strained to stay on his hips while Castiel was wearing black from head to toe, neatly tucked in and pressed against his body. His collar collecting the sweat dripping off of his neck as he fanned himself with his hat. They continued to stare at one another in the dim glow of the flashlight before Castiel uncrossed his arms from his chest and leaned forward, placing his head in his hands to collect his thoughts. Once he had thought himself into a circle he removed his hands, but stayed hunched over in the pew.

“Two weeks ago one of my summer camp kids wandered into the graveyard because he told me that a little boy had led him down there. Then he was grabbed either by the little boy or someone else, I don’t know, but he has been terrified to go on that side of the property since then. That’s the biggest thing that’s happened besides the scratches on my arms.” Castiel took a deep breath before he sat back in the pew. Sam returned shortly after with a shake of his head.

“Can you show me where you found the little boy from your summer camp?” Castiel looked between the two of them as Dean spoke. He had the light dangling in his hand as he sat on the pew. Castiel stood up and led them out the front door, the heat of the night finally hitting him. He hadn’t noticed how cold it was in the church. He led them through a few rows of the graveyard, looking around at the plaques before he settled over one of them. Sam still had that device in his hand, looking down at it constantly as they traveled around the many gravesites.

“What is that?” Castiel commented as Dean knelt down next to the grave.

“It’s an EMF reader. It tells us if there is any amount of Electromagnetic waves in the air, typically signs of an apparition or of a unmarked fuse box.” Castiel stared blankly at the device. It hadn’t done anything since they had entered the graveyard. Castiel was still apprehensive about all the new information. Sure he was a holy man, but he also knew his limits to his beliefs. He had wandered this earth for thirty years. In that time he might have seen something to indicate there were beings from beyond the grave wandering around, grabbing children and knocking down candles. Dean stood up and rubbed the back of his neck.

“This grave says it’s a 45 year old man buried here, so probably not our ghost.” Castiel was a little taken aback at the nonchalance in which Dean spoke about these specters. He looked around at a few of the other gravesites before he stopped at one, kicking the dirt off the plaque on the ground. He used his fingers to count on one hand before he called over Sam. Castiel shone the light on Dean to help with their search. “This one says Timothy Olives. Says he was 6 years old when he died.” Castiel walked over to look at the plaque. He shone the light on the numbers, counting the years between birth and death.

“We’ll have to get home to do our research.” Sam pointed out. He was writing in a notepad. Castiel mentally jotted down the name in his mind for him to see if he could pull up any information about the young boy as well. He had surely not buried the lad, so he was unsure of the circumstances surrounding the young boys death. They walked back through the graveyard and Castiel saw the black chevy glistening in the warm summer moonlight. He stopped on the sidewalk before the front doors and stared at the two brothers.

“What happens now?” Castiel let his curiosity pique for the moment. As if outside of the church he would allow himself to play into whatever it was these boys did for their line of business.

“Now, we do research. Then if that little boy is the one we’ll be looking for then we’ll have to salt and burn the body.” Dean cringed as the words came out as if he didn’t realize the current company before he said them. “Sorry, Father.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck as he looked away from Cas. “It’s the only way to make sure it leaves you alone, especially since it has taken to scratching you.” Dean jerked his head towards Cas and he adjusted the flashlights grip in response.

“So you’ll be digging up the boy’s body and burning it?” Castiel crossed himself while he spoke. He sent up a silent prayer, his eyes briefly skyward before he looked back at Sam and Dean. Even Sam shifted a bit when Castiel asked.

“Yeah, sorry Father Novak.” Sam piped up. Dean looked uncomfortable explaining their process to him. “Like Dean said, this is probably a vengeful spirit and will only escalate their harm if left alone.” Castiel scowled. The only spirit he was willing to hold a candle to was the Holy one. But he also didn’t like the idea that he was going to be subjected to worse injuries in the future.

“Well, alright then. Good night boys.” Castiel moved to turn around when Dean shot his arm out and grabbed at his wrist, just a few fingers, but enough to stop Castiel from going into the church. Castiel looked down at the fingers wrapped around his wrist which Dean promptly dropped.

“Wait, do you mind if I come with you, I have something that might help you sleep a little safer.” Sam stared at his brother as Dean managed to get the words out.

“I don’t see what you could possibly have, but I’ll entertain you.” Dean gave a small smile before walking to the trunk of the chevy and popping it open. Castiel watched as he pulled out a false bottom and saw the gleam and glitter of weapons in the moonlight. Dean reached knowingly through his items before he picked up a bag of something and closed up the trunk, keys clanging together as he quickly locked it. He came back with a bag of what looked like salt.

“Wait here, Sam. In case our little Casper decides to make an appearance.” Sam rolled his eyes and flipped off his brother before he blushed remembering Castiel’s presence. “Not in front of the Father, Samuel.” Castiel walked back into the church before he was subjected to anymore of the brothers foolery. Castiel turned around as they entered, unsure of what it was exactly that Dean had wanted to do. Castiel stared at him as Dean walked further into the nave. “Uh, can you show me where you sleep?” Castiel was unprepared for the rush of heat the filled his face. He hoped that the warmth from outside was able to explain the way his face had flushed at the question. Castiel wordlessly walked back Dean and led him towards his office and then his bedroom. Dean followed, still holding the bag of salt in his arms as he did so. Castiel ignored the way the back of his neck felt while he got closer and closer to his sleeping quarters. He had put his flashlight away at the first door leading down the hallway and used the faint moonlight to guide him through the hallway and to his rooms. He opened the several doors leading to his room before he showed Dean the small room he called his. Dean stepped in and looked around, he looked a little relieved before he walked over to the window sill. He started to pour the salt on the window and Castiel raised his eyebrow at the action.

“What’s that supposed to do?” Castiel said from his spot near his closet. Dean looked back over his shoulder as he finished pouring.

“Salt purifies and keeps out entities.” Castiel watched as he moved to his bedroom door and laid another thick line of salt at the threshold. “This will help keep the spirit out while you sleep. I can’t speak for the rest of the church, but in here you’ll be safe. So long as you don’t break a line in the salt.” Dean was careful to step over the line of salt into the kitchen. He looked down at his handywork before looking back up at Castiel. “Here take this.” Dean reached over the line at the little piece of paper in his hand. Castiel walked over and grabbed the note from Dean. He looked down at the phone number hastily written on the note. Castiel looked back at him as Dean cleared his throat. “In case something else happens you know, so, uh, I’ll just, show myself out.” Castiel sat looking at the line of salt at his door and then at the line by his window. He heard Dean close the door in his office and Castiel moved to shut his bedroom door. He removed his robe and kneeled before his bed. He knew tonight was a night he would need to pray for. Once he was done he felt his eyes drifting down as he slipped into bed, his mind suddenly exhausted. He could hopefully catch a few hours before he had sermon tomorrow. Castiel thought vaguely that this was the first night he had gone to sleep without the sound of scratching sounding from the wall beside him. 

xXx

The sermon had gone better than he had originally thought it was going to go. The people of the parish reached a silent acceptance and Castiel would see a few people glance over at the patched window while he gave his sermon. Deacon Neil had seemed the most upset about the situation. He had stood in the aisle and prayed while Castiel preached. He decided to scrap his previously planned sermon and decided instead to talk about forgiveness. When he finished he was approached by several of his clergy offering to repair the window. Castiel thanked them for their generosity. He asked them to give him their schedules so he could get that fixed before the weather started to take a turn for the worst. Castiel saw Caleb clutching his bible in the front row, his eyes glancing at Castiel before his parents ushered him out. Castiel had wanted to speak with the boy, but he hadn’t returned to summer camp since his incident. The only time he had seen the boy was when he showed up once a week to attend church. Castiel had been busy the rest of the day coordinating schedules and his various tasks for the summer. He had a wedding upcoming that he felt like he was spending hours on the phone for. Being the venue was one of the biggest components in the wedding and while he enjoyed marrying people he did not enjoy the endless phone time that that entailed. He had officiated a few weddings in his life, but most of them were done elsewhere than the church he was preaching at. His only requirement was showing up.

Castiel was careful when he walked around his rooms not to disturb the salt line that was sitting at the doorway of his bedroom like it was some sort of ghost itself. Dean’s phone number burning in his pocket like it was a flame. He occasionally caught himself playing with the paper while he was working. When he caught himself doing it he quickly removed his hand as if the paper had in fact burned him. Castiel had been curious about the boy buried in the graveyard and he remembered the boy’s name just as the sun was falling down below the horizon. He remembered the death date and began looking around the several volumes of records kept by the church. He was thankful that the last priests had been so keen to keep records. Castiel found the years he was looking for and searched for a while, figuring out the sorting system the previous priests had in place. He stumbled on the obituaries, his eyes racking over the several names. Finally, Olivers, Timothy jumped out at him and he read all he could on the little boy who had passed. After the initial comments on the boys life there was a note about his death. The words made Castiel bite his lip as he read from the yellowed paper.

 _Died of exposure_.  
A chill shot down Castiel’s spine. He remembered what Caleb had said about the boy. _He looked cold, Father._

Castiel decided to put the records away and pulled out his bible to study his scripture. He wanted to forget that the last two weeks had happened for his sanity’s sake. By the time night rolled around and he was having a hard time focusing on his bible with the yellow light of his overhead lamp, he had moved the paper from his pocket to sit as a bookmark in his bible. He left it there as he closed up his book and made his way to his bedroom, careful to avoid the salt at the door. He didn’t hold a lot of stock in the action, but if it meant Dean slept easier at night then he would do it. Castiel made a quick prayer before he fell asleep, thoughts of the green-eyed hunter pushed to the back of his mind.

Hours later he thought he heard the sound of the chevy, but it was faint and only for a moment, Castiel didn’t get up to check. He rolled over and pulled his sheets closer to his chin, oblivious to any noises he may or may not have heard outside.

xXx

Castiel had woken early to the sound of his landline ringing. He bolted into an upright position once he realized what the sound was. Castiel threw his blankets off as he ran for the line. He had no idea who it could have been at this early of an hour. He was narrowly avoided stepping on the line of salt as he ran to the phone. He picked it up just as it was about to ring again.

“Hello.” He tried to clear the sleep from his voice as he answered the phone.

“Shit, sorry Father, I thought you would have been up by now.” Whatever sleep was dragging at Castiel’s eyes was banished when he realized who was on the other line. Castiel cleared his throat as he remembered that he needed to finish the call.

“Don’t worry about it.” Castiel leaned on the edge of the counter, the landline in the kitchen being attached by a cord. He rubbed his face with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone and took a deep breath. “What’s the purpose of this phone call?” Castiel didn’t mean to sound as rude as he was, but he had been abruptly woken up and he would have to hurry to get ready for summer camp with the kids. He only had a week left until all the schools were off summer break. Castiel heard a distant voice on the other line before Dean returned to speak with Castiel.

“We dealt with the boy last night. He shouldn’t be around anymore.” Castiel lifted his head when Dean finished speaking.

“Oh.” He turned around to look at the clock on the wall. “Thanks.” Castiel didn’t know what else he could really say to Dean. He didn’t know what the boys had done exactly to give him the all clear, but he decided that whatever it was seemed worthy enough for Dean to call him at 5:30 in the morning.

“Yeah, sure thing.” Something in Dean’s voice changed. Castiel didn’t dwell on it before the other man abruptly hung up the phone and Cas was left staring at the receiver. He put the phone back up on the hook before he rushed to get into the shower and changed into his day clothes. Father Freely would be here shortly and he wanted to be presentable before he did.

Castiel was in and out of the shower in record time and had changed in a hasty fashion. He had a little bit of time to spare. He decided he would see what it was the boys had done. Castiel walked out into the early summer morning. He knew that the brothers had said something about salt and burn, but he had no idea what that was explicitly. Part of him definitely didn’t want to know. But another part of him was always intrigued to know some facet of hidden knowledge that it seemed the brothers were privy to. He walked to the graveyard and navigated his way through the many plaques and headstones. Finally, he came up to Timothy’s grave and stopped dead in his tracks. Sticking out of the freshly disturbed dirt was the spatula he had lost weeks ago. Castiel felt his heart stop in his chest and his throat seized as he stared at the wary utensil. He didn’t know if the brother’s had set that there or what, but the sight had him panting as he turned right around and headed back into the church. He barely remembered making his way to the back of the church, blowing through his office to the kitchen landline. He picked up the phone only to stare at it, unable to think of Dean’s number. He hurried to his office, pulling out the number from his bible, saying the numbers under his breath as he punched them into the phone and listened as it rang.

He didn’t have to wait long for a response as Dean answered after only the first ring.

“Fa-“

“Are you playing a joke on me?” He raised his voice a little as he heard the other man’s voice on the line.

“Woah, Padre what do you mean?” Castiel was shaking a little as the sight of the spatula in the dirt flashed in his mind.

“I don’t know what your idea of a game is, but this is too far!” He snapped at the confusion in Dean’s voice. He took deep breaths to try and calm himself down, his nails scratching on the counter top.

“Hey, we don’t play like that, what are you talking about?” Dean’s voice sounded earnest and something about it made him calm down enough to explain.

“I went out to the graveyard. I was planning on blessing the gravesite, but when I went out there, my spatula was sticking straight out of the dirt.” Castiel gritted his teeth as he recounted his events. He looked at the clock briefly, he wanted to get this wrapped up as soon as possible, so he would have enough time to calm down and prepare for the kids.

“Spatula?” The way Dean’s voice came through the phone, made an icy chill go down Castiel’s spine. Dean really had no idea what Castiel was referring to.

“When I spoke to you about the weird things going on I left out that I had some kitchen utensils go missing. I thought I was just being forgetful.” Castiel wiped his sweating palms on his slacks as he cradled the phone against his ear and his shoulder. “That very spatula was sticking out of the dirt in the graveyard.” There was silence on the other line in response. Castiel thought he heard a muffled voice on the other line before Dean got back on the phone.

“That means we were wrong.” Castiel stood stock still at Dean’s words. “I’ll get back to you tonight.” Dean hung up the phone again and Castiel put the phone back just as he heard the door to the hallway open. Castiel wiped his hands on his slacks again before he left the kitchen to approach Father Freely in the hallway. He didn’t want anyone stumbling onto his bedroom while there was a line of salt sitting at the doorway. Castiel shut the kitchen door on his way out and opened the door just as Father Freely was about to knock on the door. He had his hand poised above the door and Castiel gave him a tightlipped smile causing Father Freely to put his hand down.

“Morning, Father Novak.” Father Freely gave a genuine smile and turned so that Castiel could walk beside him. They walked together, sharing meaningless small talk. Castiel’s mind was a thousand miles away. He was hardly focused on the conversation as they sat waiting around for the children to arrive. Castiel would spend the rest of his day stuck in autopilot. He gave the children his utmost attention, but when it came to conversation he felt like he was watching himself from behind a one way mirror. He was almost relieved when the parents arrived to take their children away. He wasn’t normally this detached, but the accumulation of events he had experienced since arriving here had set his mind on a spiral. Who was Dean Winchester? What did he and his brother do? Why were they so knowledgeable in ghosts? Was it just ghosts? Were there other things that they were knowledgeable in that was otherwise shunned from the general populace? Why was he being targeted by this spirit? By the time Father Freely had said his goodbyes Castiel was ready to fall asleep on his feet from the mental laps he had been running all day.

He had told Deacon Neil that he could finish up here and to head home early. He usually left around 8, but he had wanted some alone time with the church. Deacon Neil commented on his absentmindedness, but Castiel waved him off and wished him a good night. Castiel looked at the broken and partially repaired window. The night was windy and the air was tinged with electricity of an oncoming storm. The clouds had been gathering all day and as Castiel walked down the center aisle the last rays of sunlight were slowly being overtaken by the growing storm. He walked to the steps of the dais and knelt on the first step. He bowed his head low, his hands pressed together in front of him, the rosary wrapped around his fingers as he did so. He began to murmur under his breath as the sounds of thunder crashed overhead. He ignored them as he continued to pray. All his concerns and worries spilling forth as he pressed his head to his hands. With eyes closed focusing on the holy spirit he didn’t notice the way his breath billowed out in front of him and the sudden chill that swept through the church.

The sound of small foot steps sounded behind him in the midst of his prayer. He turned his head to see someone move out of the corner of his eye, creeping up behind him. He crossed himself before he stood on the step and turned to look down the aisle he had just walked down himself. He thought maybe Deacon Neil had come back for something, but when he turned around there was a small boy standing at the first row of pews. Castiel wanted to step forward to approach the boy, but something in his stare had him standing stock still on the dais. He could feel the pinpricks of cold at his clenched fists. Castiel wanted to open his mouth to speak, but his mouth was too dry to even form any words. He sat staring with wide eyes at the boy. His clothes tattered in places and his hair sticking out in odd angles that didn’t seem to fit with the laws of gravity. Castiel took in the child’s appearance, he had a mixture of anger and sadness painting his little face. A face of a cherub marred by the grievous countenance.

While he was staring at the boy in the aisle another strike of thunder clapped overhead. As soon as it finished the boy seemed to move closer without ever moving his legs. The sudden approach startled Castiel and he fell back onto the dais. He grunted as his back hit the step, but his eyes never left the boy’s. A grimace overcame the young boys expression and Castiel felt his fingers start to go numb. The boy balled his fists as he approached. Castiel could feel his heart racing in his chest as he raised his arm to protect himself from whatever it was the boy was going to do. The blood in his ears covered up the sound of the upcoming footsteps.

“Cas!” A voice called out and something was swinging through the boy in front of him. Timothy let out a cry, something that didn’t belong to the body of a young boy, as he dissipated into smoke. Castiel stared with wide eyes at Dean who had a metal bar of some kind in his hands. Sam wasn’t far behind him. Something was beeping sporadically and Castiel was so confused he could barely focus on a single thing going on around him. With the church now covered in darkness the only light was from the occasional crack of lightning before it was dark again. Dean approached Castiel as he was still prone on the dais. He gently grabbed his arm that he had put up to protect himself. Castiel let himself be pulled up by his forearm until he was standing mere inches from Dean. His eyes were wild with concern, but they had a hardness to them that he had never seen in the man’s face before.

“It looks like it’s gone for right now, but we have to be quick.” Sam said as he looked around the church, whatever was in his hand had stopped beeping. Castiel vaguely remembered Sam calling it an EMF detector from the other night.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked, his voice a little strained and he was heaving as if he had been running. Castiel was so focused on trying to calm his heartrate that he didn’t respond to Dean. Sam put the EMF reader back in his pocket and started to walk around the church, his eyes scanning around the darkened building. Castiel could barely see Dean in front of him until a bright flash of lightning lit up the room and Castiel saw Timothy standing in the middle of the pews just as Sam’s device blared alive. Castiel’s eyes went wide as he pointed to the boy behind Dean.

“Sammy!” Dean cried out as he whipped around, the metal bar clenched tight in his hands. Sam turned in time to see the boy charge after him, walking through the pews. Sam was able to swing and disperse the boy once again into smoke.

“Father, something of the boy’s was left behind.” Sam said as he got closer, the EMF once again going silent. Sam was careful to pick his way to the other two men as the darkness was all encompassing in the church. Castiel could hear the wind raging outside as it caused the tarp on the window to dance noisily next to them. “Have you come to possess any new items recently? Something that would have been rather old?” Castiel took deep breaths as Dean moved to stand behind him and keep an eye out for the boy in case he appeared again.

“I –“ Castiel swallowed, rubbing at his face. He ground his teeth as he attempted to think. “I had a coat drive in the winter. I still have some left over that didn’t get taken. Start there.” Castiel hurried over to the nearby storage closet where he kept a box of the unclaimed jackets that were donated to him. He started pulling out coats left and right, looking for something that looked out of place. A lot of the clothes were hand-me-downs, so they had an older quality to them, but then Castiel’s hand brushed against a coat that felt like it was steeped in sadness. He grabbed it and turned around to show the brothers. He didn’t even know how it had passed inspection. It had holes in portions of it and loose seams, but Castiel recognized it as the coat that Timothy was wearing when he appeared in his ghostly form just then.

“That’s gotta be it, hurry Sammy.” Dean had his back to them, but looked over his shoulder to investigate the jacket. Sam grabbed the jacket from him and set it on the stone floor. Just as he pulled out a container of salt and what looked like matches Timothy’s figure popped up between Castiel and Sam. Sam let out a cry as he was suddenly thrown back, knocking into the column closest to them Castiel gasped as he watched the scene. Dean turned and threw the metal bar at the boy. Sam slowly picked himself before he ran over to dump a large portion of salt on the jacket as the metal bar Dean threw narrowly missed Castiel and went right through Timothy. Castiel looked down at the metal bar that landed just before his feet with a clatter. He watched it while he saw Sam light the whole pack of matches, suddenly throwing the darkened church into a faint glow. He dropped the matches on the coat and the coat went up in a blaze. From behind Castiel he heard that cry again and turned on his heel to watch as Timothy went up in flames behind him before disappearing completely. Castiel dropped to his knees once Timothy had disappeared and began to pray quietly into his cross. His eyes closed, clenched so tight he might have a headache later.

Castiel could still hear Sam and Dean behind him and the crackling of the fire. He could faintly see the light from the fire behind his closed eyes. He crossed himself once he finished his prayer, but he stayed on his knees, unwilling to face the consequences of their actions just yet. Suddenly a hand was on his shoulder and Castiel jerked, turning to face whoever it was who had grabbed him. Dean was looking down at him with an unfamiliar expression.

“Are you alright?” Castiel wanted to laugh in his face. He wanted to yell. He wanted to hug him. All of these things conflicted with one another as he sat on his knees, rosary leaving marks in his skin. The thunder was deafening as it rolled overhead and shook the foundations of the church. The light from the fire had gone down to mere embers.

“I don’t know how to answer that question.” Dean had a faint smirk on his lips, a crooked little thing. “What did you call me?” The little crooked smirk evened out now and was replaced with the barest hint of red.

“Uh, Cas?” Dean supplied, he took his hand off Castiel’s shoulder and instead rubbed the back of his neck with it. “Sorry it just, slipped out.” Castiel didn’t want to think about the implications of those words, so instead he stood up and turned to look at the pile of burnt jacket on the stonework.

“We got this, Father, we can clean up here.” Sam offered. He looked more sheepish about having made a mess in the church than to have purged a soul from this world.

“Thank you, the both of you.” Castiel kept his eyes firmly glued on Sam and not once trailing to the man who was still standing nervously behind him. “I am going to –“ He stopped himself. He had no idea what he was going to do, but he knew he wanted to step away from the scene and remove himself from whatever had just happened. He carefully picked his way to the back hallway and making his way to his bedroom. He stopped at the line of salt lining his doorway. He decided to leave it as he crossed over and shut the door behind him. He quickly stripped down until he was in just his boxers, the humidity of the storm making it impossible to sleep in anything else. He decided to pray one las time at the edge of his bed before climbing into bed, throwing his blankets over his bed randomly. He listened to the wind and the rain beat against his window for a few moments before he felt himself drift to sleep.

xXx

Castiel would be plagued by nightmares for months after the brothers had left his church. He had woke up that morning to find everything had been righted. Castiel couldn’t even find any scorch marks on the stone from the fire. He wanted to believe that he had dreamt the entire thing up, but as he walked to the lectern he saw that spatula sitting next to a single note. The quick scrawled _sorry_ didn’t calm the malaise in his stomach as he looked at the spatula. He crumpled up the note and promptly threw the spatula in the nearest garbage. Winter had managed to somehow be even harsher than last year. He was thankful that the window had been replaced because the snow was piling almost midway to all the windows. He would often be out shoveling snow until some of the kids on their winter break would help to clear the pathway to the front doors while some of their parents had come by to clear the parking lot with their modified snow removal trucks. Castiel hadn’t seen either Sam or Dean Winchester since that night. At least he hadn’t seen either one of them, but he had been left a large bundle of cash in the offer plate one Sunday morning. By the time it came around to him and he had addressed his clergy, no one had confessed to giving the priest the large sum of cash. Castiel wanted to run out the doors and see if he could catch a glimpse of the black chevy, but he instead put the money in the new parish chest and let the urge to run out the doors fade from his veins.

He would often stay late in confessional in case Dean would come by. But each night the confessional was not graced by the man who had upturned his entire life. His faith. His entire worldview. If ghosts were real than did this prove that the god he prayed to every night was also real? Did it prove that nothing else was real? What else is there? What roamed this earth that hunted humans and terrorized the masses? Castiel kept the line of salt at his door and his windowsill. If he disturbed it he would find himself fixing it with a fresh row of salt. He thought the encounter with the ghost would renew his faith in Christ, but he found himself pulling from it. He still prayed and he gave his sermons with just as much passion as before, but doubt settled in his heart. It was something heavy and dragged his feet with every step. He was surprised it didn’t lengthen his shadow. Castiel found his voice was laden with the doubt whenever he would pray in his room at night. His collar felt tight on his throat and sometimes he would find himself taking it off while he sat in his office.

New Year’s Eve had arrived sooner than he had anticipated. He sat in the confessional as he listened to the fireworks go off in the distance. He had his eyes closed as he reflected on the past year. His head in his hands as he leant over his knees. He had led an extra long sermon, going until well past ten to ring in the new year. It had drained all of his energy and the only place he seemed to find any reprieve was sitting in the confessional.

He smelt him before he heard him. The nearly constant smell of smoke and leather on his skin. Castiel didn’t realize how much that had smelt like Dean until he hadn’t seen him in months. Castiel sat bolt up right and turned sharply to the little window to his left. His breathing picked up as he took in the sight of the mysterious man. Dean was turned slightly so he could look through the window.

“Dean.” Was all Castiel could get out of his mouth. He wanted to reach out and touch the man who had shaken his faith. Would he feel human or would he simply pass right through his fingers?

“Sorry for being late, Father.” Castiel could see the faint smile on Dean’s face in the otherwise dimly lit box. Castiel leant back and crossed himself, suddenly overcome with the urge to reign in his professionalism.

“In nomine patris et filii et spiritus sancti.” Castiel murmured under his breath.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” Castiel closed his eyes as he listened. “It’s been…” His voice trailed off as he got lost in thought, sadness tinging his voice.

“Eleven months.”

“Eleven months since my last confession.” He gave a mirthless little chuckle. “I’m not really getting any better at this, am I?” He leaned forward on his knees. Castiel watched him from his spot on the bench.

“It’s better than getting worse.” Castiel muttered. He didn’t know of Dean heard him or not, nor did he think that he cared either way. Castiel kept the corner of his eye trained for any movement from Dean.

“Father, I have sinned.” Dean said again. The sadness was still lingering in his voice. “I have killed. I have been envious of my fellow man. I have lusted over people I shouldn’t have. I have been greedy. I have been too proud.” His voice started to break a little. “I have been wrathful, gluttonous, overly languid.” Castiel listened as Dean took a deep breath. The words rang in Castiel’s mind like a mantra. “And I have lost. I have lost my brother and I have paid for my sins dearly.” He heard Dean grunt as if he was holding back a sob. “Does it ever end?” Castiel felt his hand shoot out to touch the edge of the partition between them as he heard the grief in Dean’s voice. He closed his eyes, halting his hand, before he spoke.

“Can I tell you something, if you promise not to tell another soul?” Cas moved his hand from the edge of the partition and leaned against the wall separating them, lowering his voice so that Dean would be the only one able to hear it. There was still the distant drumming of fireworks going off in the city, he ignored them to listen intently to Dean. Dean didn’t respond, instead he moved until Cas heard a soft thud on the other side of the wall. He knew that Dean was leaning on the same wall he was leaning on.

“I’m not infallible.” Castiel felt his tongue grow heavy as he started to speak. His guilt weighing on him heavily. “I have questions. I have doubts.” He pressed his head further into the wood as if he could share the grief and guilt with Dean. They could each bear their weights together. “I don’t know what is right, and what is wrong, anymore.” He was met with silence on the other side of the partition. “I don’t know if the pain ever ends, but I believe this life is more than suffering. I have felt joy. I have seen happiness, and love, and I have held that dearly. All of that can not collect just so that we may know what it is like to lose those things.” Castiel was suddenly very aware of the heaviness of his collar and the rosary they hung next to his heart. “We were not put here to suffer. I can’t put faith in that.” The fireworks stopped. Castiel let the silence linger for a moment before he spoke up again. “I don’t have an answer for you Dean, but I would be willing to walk this road with you.” They sat for a long time in silence. Castiel’s nose was filled with the rustic smell of smoke from the man beside him. After a moment he heard the soft sounds of choked sobs. Castiel closed his eyes, willing Dean to speak again.

“Can I call you ‘Cas’?” Castiel opened his eyes at the sudden question.

“Yeah,” His voice was barely above a whisper, as if it was being withheld from him. “You can call me ‘Cas’.” They sat in silence for a long time after that. Castiel thought he could hear some sniffling from the other side of the partition, but he couldn’t be sure. “Dean?” Castiel broke the silence.

“Yeah, Cas?” Castiel couldn’t put a finger on the emotion that overcame him when Dean called him by the shortened version of his name.

“Are there more than ghosts out there?” He spoke softly as if uttering their name would summon them in the small booth.

“Yeah, there’s a lot out there.” Dean responded in an equally quiet voice. He could hear something akin to hesitation in Dean’s voice. Castiel carefully got up, being exceptionally tedious not to make any sound, he stepped out of his side of the booth and gently opened the door to Dean’s side of the booth. Dean startled a little at the intrusion, but otherwise sat perfectly still.

“Tell me.” Dean took a moment to stare at Cas. He seemed to be processing what it was Castiel wanted from him. Dean finally stood and Castiel led him out of the booth. He was nearly overwhelmed by Dean’s closeness and the smell of him filling his senses. He turned and led him back to his kitchen. Castiel pointed to the kitchen table which Dean took as invitation to sit down at. Castiel filled up his kettle and set it on the stove to warm up. He sat in the chair opposite of Dean. His kitchen table was so small if he reached his legs out he would have them tangled into Dean’s. He instead tucked them under his chair, his hands twitched to hold onto something and he tried not to let his eyes linger on Dean’s hands for too long.

“Where should I start?” Dean seemed to be having a hard time looking him in the eye as well. He played with the edge of the kitchen table as he sat with his legs wide in the chair. It seemed he always needed to take up the most space wherever he was.

“Wherever you feel comfortable.” Dean took a deep breath as he thought about his next words.

“Ghosts are pretty common, not all of them are aggressive like that though.” Dean leant back and moved his hands to his knees. “Just about anything you can think of is out there.” Dean went on to tell him of all the creatures he and his brother ever hunted. Whenever he talked about his brother his voice was dripping with grief. About halfway through his explanation the whistle from the kettle went off and Castiel got up to pour himself and Dean some tea. He did them up rather nice and came back, offering Dean the cup. He looked at it apprehensively, but eventually gave it a sip. His voice changed a fraction and Cas could tell that he enjoyed it more than he had originally thought he would. He continued shortly after and he went on until both of their cups were empty and Cas was leaning over the table listening to him. After what felt like hours, Dean had summed up just about everything he had ever encountered. He stopped to look into his cup longingly. Cas knew that he wasn’t staring at the cup looking for more tea.

“Have you ever lost someone close to you, Cas?” Dean postured. Castiel leant back in his seat, his movements less rigid than they were when they had first sat down.

“Yes. But she’s not dead, just,” Castiel watched as Dean stiffened a little. “Out of reach.” Castiel played with the handle on the coffee cup in front of him.

“A wife?” Dean’s voice was a little tight, but Castiel wasn’t sure where the resistance was coming from all the sudden. Castiel shook his head and he thought he saw Dean relax just a fraction.

“My daughter.” Castiel did see the shock in Dean’s face this time. “Her name is Claire.”

“I thought priests weren’t allowed to get married and have kids?” It was Dean’s turn to lean forward. Castiel grabbed his and Dean’s cup and after a quick rinse, left them in the sink. He waited until his sat back down to answer him.

“I was married before I became a priest.” Castiel regretted taking his cup away because now he didn’t have anything to occupy his hands. Dean looked like he wanted to pry and was fighting with himself on whether or not he should voice his question aloud. “She didn’t support me becoming a priest, so she took our daughter and left.” Castiel hadn’t thought about Claire in a long time, but he still felt the wound of not seeing her grow up as if it was made yesterday.

“That blows.” Castiel gave a twitch of his lips at Dean’s comment.

“She’s better off with her mother than me anyways.” Castiel can’t help the way his voice drops when he talks about Claire. Castiel watches as Dean’s hand makes a twitching motion before it settles on the table again. They sat for a moment, staring at each other from across the table. Castiel watched for the smallest movements in Dean’s face. He was sure Dean was doing the same thing. Castiel slid his eyes over Dean’s shoulder to glance at the clock. He noticed the time and looked back at Dean. His face was slightly red, but he didn’t say anything to address it.

“I think I better get before Bobby thinks I’m in a gutter somewhere.” Dean stood up slowly, Castiel watching him as he did so. He agreed that it was getting late, but part of him wanted to stay up speaking with Dean. Castiel got up to escort him to the front door of his office.

“Have a good night, Dean.” Dean stuffed his hands in his pockets as he turned to face Castiel.

“Good night, Cas. And happy new year.” Cas gave a small smile before nodding slowly.

“And a happy new year to you as well, Dean.” Dean gave a small smile in return before he gave a small wave of his hand and walked down the long hallway out to the rest of the church. Castiel sat there watching him as he went until he closed the other door behind him. Castiel closed his office door and stopped in his sink, staring at the two empty cups in his sink.

xXx

Another year passed, and Castiel didn’t see Dean Winchester. After six months he had started to think the worse had happened to the man. His prayers were almost always about Dean’s wellbeing that he would show up with his cocky grin and five o’clock shadow. Meanwhile he had been contemplating leaving the priesthood. He had spoke at length with Balthazar who could only offer the same advice, _do as you will_. By the nine month mark Castiel had been consumed with grief and fear that Dean would never grace his dais again. He had finally spoken with Bishop Shurley and told him of his desire to leave the cloth. He had been adamant that he would like to see Castiel stay, but the guilt, fear, and restlessness in his bones weighed too heavily on him. Despite that, Castiel agreed to stick around at the church until they had found his replacement. Deacon Neil had been upset about his news, but he had a kindness in his eyes he hadn’t seen directed at him before. He was sad that Castiel would be leaving, but he knew that this path wasn’t what the Lord had intended for him. Castiel thanked him for being a friend and the old man grumbled something before leaving. When Christmas rolled around he had almost accepted the inevitability that he would never see Dean again. He only had a few more days until he wouldn’t be priest anymore. They were bringing someone in from across the pond and Castiel could feel the restlessness in his bones only excite the closer he was to his final day. The restlessness coupled with the realization that he would never see Dean again had him all to eager to leave this town and never look back.

Castiel had his head hung low as he sent up his final prayer of the night. The confessional booth was warmer than usual, he was finally able to get an adequate heating system throughout the church and that meant changing out the drafty confessional with something more sturdy. He was so busy muttering and focusing on his prayer that he didn’t notice the door on the other side opening. Castiel continued to pray when a deep voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Hey, Cas.” Castiel opened his eyes instantly and the rosary slipped from his fingers. It clattered to the ground, loud in the din of his muttering. Castiel turned his head to look through the partition and could barely make out one of Dean’s arms as he lounged in the new booth. “I like what you’ve done with the place.” Castiel’s words were caught in his throat as he listened to Dean give a breathy chuckle.

“I thought you died.” Finally he was able to blurt out the thought that had been circling around in his brain for six whole months. Dean moved, he thought maybe he shrugged, and made a noise.

“Nah, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” Castiel got up, careful to step over the rosary and walked out the booth, only to turn and walk into the one Dean was in. Dean straightened up when Castiel threw open the door to his booth.

“Dean.” Was the most that Cas could get out. Dean didn’t move when Castiel walked into the booth, closing the door behind him.

“Cas.” Dean’s voice was breathy as Castiel entered his space. There was plenty of space for one, but now with two Castiel was standing between Dean’s spread legs. There was a shine to Dean’s eyes that hadn’t been there a year ago.

“I prayed for you. All the time.” Castiel looked down as Dean tilted his head back to take in Castiel’s face. There was a dusting of pink that spread across Dean’s face at Castiel’s words.

“I did too.” Castiel was only momentarily taken aback by the confession. They stared at each other for a moment before Dean reached up, grabbing as the buttons of Cas’ shirt. He pulled himself up and crashed his lips to Cas’. Castiel took no time in reciprocating, cupping Dean’s face as they continued to kiss. Dean pressed his whole body against Castiel as Castiel’s tongue swiped against Dean’s lips. Dean let out a stuttered groan which Castiel took as permission to delve deeper. He tilted his head, moving his hands back to thread at the nape of Dean’s neck. Dean let go of Castiel’s shirt and wandered his hands to Castiel’s hips. The tentative swipe of Dean’s tongue against his seemed to spark a frenzy in his mind. Castiel moved his hands from Dean’s nape to his hips, pulling him flush to his body.

Dean grunted as his ass came up from off the seat, Castiel holding him close so he wouldn’t fall. Dean’s hands left Castiel’s hips to catch himself on the edge of the bench. Castiel used one hand to hold Dean close to him while the other ran up to slip under Dean’s black Henley. Dean broke the kiss to hiss at the contact, his eyes closed and his head lolled back as he reveled in the feeling. Castiel moved to kiss him again, but Dean put a hand on his chest.

“Wait, you’re a priest.” Dean was panting as he managed to get the words out. Castiel shook his head, causing Dean’s eyes to open.

“No, this is my last week as a priest.” Castiel dragged his nails down Dean’s back and any opposition that was on his tongue quickly faded from thought. Castiel adjusted them so that he had one knee on the cushioned seat and the other leg holding them in place. Dean reached out now that his hands were free to do what they like. He started pulling at Castiel’s shirt, tugging it out of his slacks. Castiel found he couldn’t get enough of Dean’s lips. He nipped and licked and stole away Dean’s breath with every connection. Dean let out ragged grunts and groans as he kept getting distracted from touching Castiel’s skin. Eventually he was able to untuck his shirt and feel all the way up and down Cas’ chest. Cas broke their kiss to let out a breath moan as Dean’s fingers grazed his nipples.

“Fuck, Cas.” Dean barely managed to get out before Cas descended on his lips again. Castiel couldn’t help grinding his pelvis against Dean’s as he so badly sought the friction to ease the tension in his slacks. With the first roll of his hips Dean went slack and bit his lip, but it couldn’t stop the lewd sound that came out of his mouth with every rock of Castiel’s hips. Castiel could feel his skin start to tingle as his oncoming orgasm was fast approaching. He could tell from the way Dean’s face was shifting that he was close too. “You’re going to have to cool your hips if you want me to last any longer.” Castiel stopped his hips for a moment as he leaned in to nuzzle his nose at the junction of Dean’s jaw and neck.

“And what if I want you to cum just from me grinding on you, never even touching your cock.” Castiel pulled back to watch Dean’s expression. Dean’s eyes snapped open as a wanton cry stumbled its way out of his mouth.

“For a priest you sure have a filthy mouth.” Dean gasped.

“You have no idea.” Castiel lurched forward, his hands on Dean’s hips the only thing preventing him from knocking Dean’s hips against the back of the booth. “I’ll show you how filthy this mouth can get.” Dean squeezed his eyes closed at the combination of his words and his actions. Dean barely managed to recover as he made quick work of Castiel’s slacks and palmed his erection through his underwear. Cas grunted at Dean’s slightly chilled hands. It was winter and he showed up in jeans and a Henley. Dean pressed on Castiel’s cock, making him stutter in his kiss. Castiel growled as he knelt down and undid Dean’s pants and pulling out his cock in record fashion. Before Dean could fully comprehend what he had planned next, Castiel had already swallowed down half of his length. Dean jerked and cried out, grabbing at Castiel’s hair. Castiel continued until he carefully nuzzled his nose into Dean’s abdomen.

“Fuck, fuck, god, fuck, Cas.” Dean was reduced to single words as Castiel pulled back, dragging his tongue along the underside of Dean’s dick. “Cas!” He whined, Cas picking up a steady rhythm of taking him all the way down, coming back up, then using his tongue to apply pressure where he felt it needed. He would flick his tongue against the seam of the head and the shaft and Dean could only let out obscene noises.

Cas adjusted and used his free hand to reach down and cup Dean’s balls. The pressure of his hand alone sent Dean’s hips off the bench. Castiel would have grinned had he not had the man’s cock in his mouth.

“Cas! Please! I’m gonna – fuck!” Cas felt him tense underneath before he moved so that he could swallow down Dean’s orgasm. Dean gripped Castiel’s hair as he come almost to the point that it was painful, but Cas didn’t mind. Seeing Dean cum had been worth it. Dean took a moment to catch his breath before he was pulling at Castiel to move up from his knees. Dean pulled him in for a searing kiss, not bothered by the salty taste of himself on Cas’ tongue. “God damn, Cas where did you learn to do that?” Instead of answering, Cas pulled him in for another kiss. Cas could feel Dean’s still rigid erection against his stomach.

“Again?” Dean reached down to palm Cas through his underwear again.

“Maybe, let’s get you up to speed though.” Dean worked his fingers into the waistband of Castiel’s boxers, shoving them down before grasping Castiel’s dick. Castiel groaned at the connection. He couldn’t help thrusting a few times into Dean’s hand. Castiel moved to lave his tongue on Dean’s collar bone and leave a single mark on his deltoid. Dean hummed, he pushed Castiel closer with his free hand until their cocks brushed together. Castiel bit down on the muscle he had been marking causing Dean to moan. He removed his mouth and soothed over the red mark with his tongue as Dean quickly replaced hands, this one slick with spit. He managed to grip both of their cocks together and Castiel was fast approaching his orgasm. He had a feeling that Dean was as well as he alternated between moaning and biting his lip.

“Dean.” Castiel groaned into the man’s ear as he felt a white hot burst of energy implode from with in him. He was followed shortly after by Dean as he let out a breathy moan, his hand and stomach getting covered in their release.

The bliss would be short lived as Castiel heard a severe high pitched ringing in his ears. He clapped his hands over his ears to try and lessen the sound, but it didn’t abate in the slightest. Dean’s hand was on his shoulder, but if he was talking he couldn’t hear anything. Everything was drowned out by the siren in his mind. His knees hit the ground as he lifted his head, a rush of some foreign feeling flooding his veins and just as the ringing felt like it would rupture his eardrums a voice reached his ears.

“Castiel?” Dean was looking down at him with concern and fear. Castiel closed his eyes for a second and everything came flooding back into clarity. He opened his eyes again and Dean had backed up a bit, the fear drowning out the concern at this point. Castiel stood up, shook out his wings, and laid a finger on Dean’s forehead.

“Dean.” He said calmly, the mess they had made of themselves was cleaned and Dean looked down at himself in blatant confusion.

“Cas, what the fuck?” Cas couldn’t help the smile that filled his features.

“This is me.” Cas straightened in the confined space. “I am Castiel, angel of the lord.”

xXx

“So you’re an angel now?” Dean held onto his cup of tea as they sat on Castiel’s bed. Castiel had pulled the collar out of his shirt and popped a few of his buttons as he sat down next to Dean. The weight of his wings felt like being home, it was something he hadn’t realized he missed so greatly until they were given back to him. He wanted to fly, he wanted to stretch out his wings, he wanted to soar the way he used to, but he knew he had some explaining he had to do. He took a long sip of his tea, the desire to do so outweighing the fact that he no longer needed to.

“I always have been.” Castiel said once he finished taking his drink. Dean was still staring at the golden liquid in his cup.

“So, what…” Dean didn’t seem to know what it was he was asking. His face was still slightly flushed from their activities in the confessional booth. Castiel couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the man. Every time Dean’s eyes attempted to rise and meet his, his face flushed brighter and he went back to staring into his cup.

“When we were charged with taking care of this world we decided that standing out as angels would only make us targets and defeat the purpose, so we all took up mantels of priests, bishops, and cardinals to administer ‘miracles’ as was seemed necessary.” Castiel saw Dean’s mouth open for a moment before clicking shut. “No, he’s human. None of us were willing to put ourselves in that high of a power amongst the human population.” Castiel felt a barely there smile work its way to his lips. “We wiped our memories as to not draw any attention to ourselves in case someone may or may not have suspected with any weight to their accusations.” Castiel took a few more sips while Dean seemed to process the information. He finally put the cup to his lips and took a tentative sip of his tea.

“Now what?” Dean turned to finally look at Castiel. He seemed to have a permanent blush covering his face as he spoke with Castiel. He wondered how long that would last. “I mean, I didn’t just defile a priest, I defiled an angel of the Lord here, Cas. I’m still not sure you aren’t going to smite me.” Castiel scrunched up his face as he took in Dean’s words and the way he seemed to cringe as he said them himself.

“I’m not going to smite you, Dean Winchester.” The ridges of fear seemed to ease out of Dean’s shoulders. Castiel was focused on his chest for a long time, staring at the light emitting from there.

“Good, that would be a hard one to explain to Sam.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat. “Oh fuck, what am I going to tell Sam?” He muttered as if more to himself than Cas.

“How did you get Sam back?” Cas had been curious since he had showed up in his booth with the lifted weight of someone who had been given back something they thought they lost. Dean’s eyes lit up and he threw himself into retelling why he had spent a year away from Castiel. How he got his brother back and has been busy dealing with the consequential aftermath of doing so. Castiel grabbed both of their empty cups and set them on his dresser across the way. Castiel listened with rapt attention as Dean told him of all things he had experienced while on the road. How happy he was to have his brother back. How he was glad to finally be able to take a break and spend some time with Bobby and his brother.

“We’ve been catching up at Bobby’s when I’m not off with Bobby taking hunts, or I’m working on cars for some cash.” Castiel remembered the large sum of cash that appeared in the offer plate one day after his sermon. Castiel could tell from how it was given and from spending time with the man that if he brought it up he probably would have denied any accusation thrown his way. Instead Castiel found himself staring dead center of Dean’s chest. The light of his soul flickering as he spoke about various things. Dean got quiet all of the sudden and Castiel caught his eyes. He was staring at Cas with a apprehensive glance. “What?” Cas looked back down at his chest before back to his eyes. Dean followed his eyes, staring down at his chest then back to Cas’ eyes.

“I’m looking at your soul.” A brief wave of fear skittered across his face before it was replaced with genuine curiosity.

“What – “ Dean took a second, he leaned a little closer to Cas as he stumbled over his words. “What does it look like?” Castiel stared at the glowing, moving, things that waxed and waned as Dean breathed. Castiel tried to find the words to express the vitality of Dean’s soul. Castiel reached out and gently laid his hand over Dean’s chest. The heat underneath his hand flared and his soul sparkled as if it was a firework. Cas could feel the combination of his heartbeat and the thrum of his soul under his fingertips.

“It’s bright, and warm.” Castiel opened his eyes, unaware that he ever even closed them. “It has scratches, but the light coming from it isn’t diminished in the slightest.” Dean reached up to grab Cas’ wrist. He moved his hand to cover Cas’. He closed his eyes as if he could try and feel his soul through Cas’ hand. Dean opened his eyes, staring at Castiel’s with an unreadable expression. Before Castiel could understand what he was doing, he leaned forward until he was a hair’s breadth from Dean’s lips. He could feel his breath come out in ragged breaths against his lips. Dean’s other hand reached up to cup Castiel’s jaw. Castiel’s eyes couldn’t focus on a single aspect of Dean’s face for longer than a few seconds. Castiel shivered as Dean’s thumb brushed across the apple of his cheek. He felt his wings flare up behind him as he closed the rest of the distance between them. The kiss was slow, nothing like the desperation from before. A gentle press of lips as Castiel felt the warmth from Dean’s soul spread throughout his whole being.

Castiel kept his hand on Dean’s chest while Dean’s hands moved from their previous spots to Castiel’s back. He let his fingers push and pull the muscles of his back as they continued to kiss. He pulled Cas closer until they were chest to chest with only Castiel’s hand on Dean’s chest separating them. Castiel pushed and Dean leant back for Cas to move so that he was hovering over top of Dean. They continued like that for a long time, just kissing on Cas’ bed. Neither of them eager to move this any further. Their immediate lust satisfied for now and the desire to learn about the other man was much more pressing.

After a while Castiel could tell that Dean was growing weary. Castiel pulled away as Dean gave a grand yawn. Castiel pulled back despite Dean’s rigid arms to keep him where he was.

“Get some sleep. You can stay here.” Dean had his eyes closed when he responded.

“Where will you be?” Castiel got up so that Dean could lean up on his elbows, opening his eyes to look around the room.

“I don’t need to sleep as an angel.” Dean started to take his shirt off and threw it on the foot of the bed while Cas answered him. Dean looked at him, sans shirt, his hands resting on the button of his jeans. He wiggled out of his jeans, folding them up to set next to his shirt. Dean sat in just his boxers on the edge of Cas’ bed. Castiel took in the full sight of Dean stripped down in his boxers, his necklace standing out against his pale skin. Castiel let his eyes roam over his bare chest, skimming over the tattoo on his chest, taking notice of his dick at half mast in his boxers. Dean seemed to be preening under the attention. Castiel wanted to feel the way his skin would feel under his wings, but he only turned to sit in the chair by his window. Dean watched him as he did so while he settled under the blankets. Dean pushed himself back until his back was pressed against the wall the bed was backed up into. Dean pulled the blanket back, exposing the open side of the bed.

“You don’t need to, but what if you just laid with me?” Castiel looked at the open side of the blanket. He watched, Dean’s face getting redder the longer he took to respond. Castiel eventually stood and began taking off his shirt and slacks. Leaving them folded in the chair. He stood bare with the exception of his boxers before he slowly slid in to the open side of the blanket. Before he was completely settled Dean had his legs wrapped up in Castiel’s. Dean threw the blanket over Cas as he joined Dean on the pillow. It was a twin bed and only allowed for the barest amount of space between them. Neither of them seemed to mind though. Dean threw his arm around Cas’ middle. Their foreheads grazing against each other as they found comfortable positions. Dean closed his eyes satisfied with being so close to Cas. Castiel watched him as his breathing started to even out and his face relaxed as he began to fall asleep. “You can be my guardian angel while I sleep.” Dean’s voice was groggy with sleep, but he had enough energy to give a smirk before he was completely asleep.

Castiel moved his hand to rest over Dean’s chest again and despite his comment he found his eyes drifting closed.

The following morning Castiel told Deacon Neil that he was taking care of someone and wouldn’t be available for most of the day. When Castiel gazed upon the old man’s face, Castiel could see a shimmer of another feature just under the surface. Like the Deacon was wearing a veil and the face underneath was sleeping just underneath. The other figure’s face had their eyes closed and didn’t recognize Castiel when he placed a hand on the Deacon’s shoulder. Castiel spent the rest of the day alternating between eating and speaking with Dean. He seemed in no rush to leave. He barely even wore more than his jeans as he paraded around between the four rooms behind the church. Castiel would be lying if he said that the sight of Dean with hickeys all over his chest and neck parading around half naked didn’t have an effect on him. It had led to several more hickeys appearing before Dean’s body throughout the day and one or two times with the man pinned against the wall like a fine art museum. His sweaty chest and euphoric expression would fit in along side any painting within the Louvre.

After Deacon Neil left for the day Castiel had come out to wish him farewell as to keep up the appearance of him taking care of his companion within the bellows of the church. Dean would stay until the next morning before he would return at night to lay chest to chest with Castiel in the back room.

On the day Castiel was expected to leave Michael had made an appearance. When they looked at each their veils lifted and Castiel felt himself steeling his nerves for the meeting. All former pretenses were dropped as their true forms seemed to fill up the space of the church.

“Castiel. Good to see you’re back.” Michael held himself differently than he did when he was under the guise of Bishop. Castiel had to admit that he did as well.

“It’s been a while, Michael.” Castiel couldn’t help the way his wings twitched when speaking with Michael.

“You still adamant to leave?” Michael had his own wings flared out as he spoke. He was angry that Castiel was leaving, but something was holding him back from issuing the order to make Castiel stay stationed here.

“Yes.” The conversation didn’t last long after that when Mrs. Hanson came strolling in as best she could. Her daughter and grandson following her. Her grandson was holding something, but Castiel couldn’t see it from his angle. Michael made his way around the other side of the nave to leave out the front door. Castiel walked down to meet her at the edge of the pews. She gave him a warm smile as he joined her.

“Father, I wanted to wish you good bye and say thank you for bringing life back into this old church.” Castiel’s expression softened as she reached out and held his hand in that usual way the old ladies did. She turned a bit and motioned for her grandson to walk up to him. “I got you this. You always look so cold.” Castiel let go of her hand and reached out to take the package from her grandson. The boy looked sheepish as he let go of the box before he walked back to his mother’s side. Castiel set the package down, but Mrs. Hanson shook her hand at him. “Open it now, I want to make sure it fits you.” Castiel smirked.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Mrs. Hanson. A goodbye would have meant just as much without the gift.” Castiel started to open the wrapping paper and placed the garbage on the pew next to them. He set the box down to help him pull out the gift inside. Hidden amongst the wrapping paper was a beige trench coat. Castiel let his fingers graze over the fabric before Mrs. Hanson’s eager expression had him slipping into the coat. It settled nicely over him and he had to admit, he liked the way it hung off of him. Castiel smiled and held out his hands for Mrs. Hanson to take. The older lady had tears in her eyes as she looked him up and down.

“It suits you just fine.” Castiel closed his eyes for a second as he used his powers to ease the aches in her joints and strengthen her bones. She probably wouldn’t notice for a while, but he didn’t mind if he didn’t get acknowledged for it. They said their goodbyes, Michael returned shortly with the new priest that would be taking over the church. He looked barely old enough to be out of high school. The veil over his face shifted a little, but Castiel could tell that the angel underneath was still unacknowledged. Castiel said his goodbye to Michael, and the new priest, Samandriel before he grabbed his briefcase and walked out of the church into the chilly afternoon sun. Castiel’s eyes took a moment to adjust before he took in the sight of the black chevy waiting for him at the curb. Dean was leaning over the top of the car, a smile plastered on his face.

Dean let out a long whistle as he took in the sight of Castiel standing at the door, sans collar, but sporting the new coat. “Looking good, Cas.” Dean slid into the car as Castiel walked towards the back door.

“What are you doing here?” He said through the open window. They hadn’t discussed this before he left the other morning before Castiel was to leave the church.

“No, Sammy, get in the back.” Sam looked affronted as Dean snapped at him and pointed to the back seat.

“What? Why?” Dean sent a look to Sam. He sighed dramatically before getting out of the car, leaving the door open for Castiel. Sam got in the back, pouting as he did so.

“I wasn’t going to leave you to walk alone to the bus stop.” Castiel slid into the seat and set his briefcase by his feet. “Well, actually I was wondering if you’d want to come live with us, if you have nowhere else to go that is.” Sam groaned in the back seat to which Dean flipped him off. Cas didn’t have any place in particular he had planned on stay, but now that Dean had propositioned him he found he didn’t want to be any where else other than next to Dean.

“I would like that.” Dean gave a broad smile and before Castiel could move Dean had his lips on his. Cas smirked against his lips and as quickly as he was there, he pulled back, but Dean’s goofy smile hadn’t left. Sam gagged in the back seat at the display. Dean looked up in the rearview mirror to give Sam a dirty look.

“You’re being really homophobic right now, Sam.” There was a twinkle in Dean’s eye as he teased his brother. Castiel watched out the window as they pulled out the parking lot and headed down the street, turning up the music as he did so.

xXx

“Just six more hours until we cross state lines.” Cas looked at the map in the passenger seat. Dean had warned him several times that if he wasn’t careful he would blind him and they would both be taken out in the wreck. Castiel merely rolled his eyes saying it would take more than a car crash to get rid of an angel.

“So what’s she like?” Sam poked his head from the back seat. Castiel turned slightly to look at him out of the corner of his eye. His hair had gotten long in the time they had been together. He was constantly pushing it back from his face as he did so now, pen in his ear revealing as he did.

“I don’t know.” Sam seemed disappointed with that answer, but leant back in his seat either way. Cas looked over at Dean. He had a faint smile playing along his lips as they drove down the road.

“Whatever she’s like, I’m sure she’d be happy to see her father.” Cas’ heart clenched at that before he focused on the road ahead. Cas folded up the map, putting it back in the glove compartment. He slid his hand across the bench seat, holding it out with his palm up. Dean looked out of the corner of his eye at the display and quickly reached down to grab Castiel’s hand in his own. Castiel squeezed his hand as he did so.

“I can only hope.” Castiel threaded his fingers through Dean’s as another road sign passed by them. He hoped Claire would be as willing to see him as he was to see her.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyways, way to kick off the new year than with some...well whatever this is. I hope you guys like it. Let me know, you can always send me something here or on my tumblr at gayaliensyndrome.tumblr.com  
> Believe it or not, there were scenes I didn't get to put in here. This is well....the abridged version I guess. And it still is....this long. I wanted to write so much more, but I knew if I broke 30,000 words I would hate myself for it. And before you say anything, I didn't want to turn this into a series because if anyone has looked at my profile will know I am notorious for leaving things as WIPs so.....you get it all at once like this and MAYBE I will upload bits and pieces as I see fit in a collection later on, but that is no guarantee.  
> Edit 1/7/21: Thank you to the anon commentor who left me a nice message, I have decided I will reach 30,000 words, just for some clarity.


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